Lifeline
by Snow Duchess
Summary: COMPLETE! Ashley had suggested Cabo, beaches, and margaritas. She settled for Canada, camping, and wilderness, but when the simple getaway goes horribly wrong, Ashley and Spencer must find a way to survive. Full summary inside.
1. Prologue

Lifeline

_Disclaimer__: I do not own South of Nowhere._

_Summary__: Ashley wanted to go to Cabo, but Spencer feared the romantic setting. After all, this was a time for them to work out their problems together: no school, no family, and no exes getting in the way. Camping in the Canadian woods? Sounded great to Ashley, so long as Spencer was there with her. But when the simple getaway goes horribly wrong, the two girls find themselves relying on each other, not for the survival of petty high school drama, but to preserve their very lives._

_Author's note__: Run-on sentences and sentence fragments are the lovechildren of my informal writing, so beware. I went through this whole wilderness survival book-reading phase when I was younger, so inspiration for this stems from books like _Hatchet _and_ My Side of the Mountain

_Warnings__: Spoilers through "Valley of Shadows" of Season 3. I truly hope I don't have to include a warning about lesbian themes. I mean come on. It's South of Nowhere for crying out loud; the presence of Spashley goodness is pretty much a no-brainer._

_Reviews are greatly appreciated._

* * *

**Prologue**

"_Sometimes I have this fantasy that I get on the first plane out of L.A.X. going anywhere, as long as it's away from here."_

She remembered saying it to Spencer the day they ditched class to go to the beach. The day the sweet innocent blonde admitted she liked girls. The day that set the already-rolling tides of their blossoming relationship on its unwavering course.

The statement rang mercilessly in Ashley's ears, piercing through the sputtering drone of the plane's engine. Funny how the smallest details and the biggest revelations, all jumbled together in a chaotic flipbook, could be relived in perfect clarity in the space of mere seconds. Seconds that ticked on for an eternity and still rushed by all too quickly.

Ashley looked over at Spencer. The blonde was staring out the tiny window next to her, her knuckles matching her face in whiteness as she gripped the seat's armrests. Reaching across the gap of the small cabin, Ashley placed her hand over Spencer's.

Another moment of clarity. The same spark, like the first time their hands touched.

Quickly, desperately, fingers interlaced and gripped, clung together as though to keep the other from slipping away. Cerulean eyes tore themselves from the equally blue sky and stared deep into chocolate pools. Eyes so familiar and comforting and knowing that Ashley felt she could die happy so long as she died gazing into them.

But the warmth, the sparkle in them was gone, replaced by the harsh chill of fear Ashley knew to be reflected in her own eyes. Spencer was looking at her, silently pleading with her to make it stop, to fix what was wrong. The same look she had given Ashley the fateful night of their prom. The same look Ashley had faltered in the face of and thus ruined the best thing in either of their lives. She could have fixed it then, but she couldn't fix what was broken now. She did one of the only things she knew how to do, a response completely worthy of the name Ashley Davies.

She grinned, confident and true. That bright nose-crinkling grin that she knew Spencer used to love. No, that she knew Spencer _still_ loved, because the blonde smiled back in reflex, just as she always had. The small chuckle that escaped those full lips died out as quickly as it had come, though, the smile turned pained, and Spencer returned her gaze to the window. The sapphire horizon had changed into an emerald expanse, and the blonde's hand tightened in Ashley's.

The green outside gained detail. Trees. Branches. Leaves and needles. The first violent jolt and a scream from Spencer, but not the last of either.

Funny how, in those few seconds between the first jolt and the last, those seconds that crawled by at a lightning pace, Ashley relived her entire existence. Moving into the new mansion with her mom. The birthday Raife Davies gave her the first guitar she ever owned. The night she found out she was pregnant, and the morning she found out she miscarried. The day she met Spencer. Their first conversation. Their first touch. First hug. First kiss. The furtive glances and whispers and touches. Lips and hands and tongues. Tears and apologies and 'I love you's.'

Ashley opened her mouth, the words on her lips, but they died there unspoken, and she didn't know if it was because Spencer was staring into her eyes again or if it was because the world around them erupted into indefinable colors and noises, pain and blackness.


	2. Chapter One

_Thank you everyone for your generous response. _South of Nowhere_ fans are the best!_

* * *

**Chapter One**

_(Five days ago)_  
"Cabo?" Spencer asked, staring at the paper in her hands in confusion.

"Well, actually, I can afford that entire area of Mexico, if you want," Ashley stated with a goofy smile.

"What are you talking about?"

"The inheritance money came in," the older girl explained quietly, "and I thought what better way to spend it than on a trip for us. No pressure, no expectations. Just you and me on the beach drinking margaritas."

Spencer's stare hardened slightly. "You were with Aiden last night." It wasn't a question.

Ashley's smile faded. "Like I said: no expectations."

"Then what's the point?"

"Okay fine, then expectations," the brunette amended. "Spencer…I don't want to leave this at what it is. I've made mistakes, I know. Big huge mistakes that I'll probably never be able to fix, but I have to try." Spencer was silent. "Please, Spence? I want to be able to talk to you and-and grovel and work through this with you without being distracted and interrupted all the time. You know, by school, family—"

"Ex boyfriends?" Spencer added coldly.

Ashley cringed. "…yeah…"

The blonde shook her head. "Seeing you with Aiden…I really want to hate you for what you did, Ash." She sighed. "…but I can't hate you because I still love you."

Ashley's eyes lit up with hope. "Does this mean we're going to Cabo?"

"No." The brunette's face fell once again. "I can't go to Cabo with you, Ash, but…if you're serious about this…" Spencer took in a deep breath. "If we go somewhere, it has to be somewhere a whole lot less…sexy and stuff than Mexico," she finished with a small grin.

Ashley pouted before returning the smile. "So…what would you consider an acceptable vacation spot, Ms. Carlin?"

"Let me think on it, okay?"

Ashley gave a brilliant smile. "Just don't take too long. Labor Day weekend starts Friday. Perfect time to get away. And Spence?"

"Yeah?"

The brunette's voice dropped to a soft whisper. "I'm never going to stop trying."

"Okay," the younger girl nodded neutrally. "Goodnight, Ash."

"'night, Spence." After the door closed, the brunette whispered against the wood, "I love you."

* * *

"Canada."

"Canada?"

"Yes, Ms. Davies, Canada."

Ashley blinked. "Well, congratulations, Ms. Carlin, I think you just decided on the least sexy location in the world."

"Shut up. And besides, isn't that kinda the point?"

"What the hell is in Canada that could surpass drinking margaritas on the beaches of Mexico while naked?" At Spencer's raised brow, Ashley confirmed her previous statement. "Oh yes, I'd be naked."

The blonde gave a spectacular roll of her eyes, then answered her friend's question. "Nature."

The brunette looked puzzled. "What's not natural about being naked on a beach?"

"Camping, Ashley. Camping in the Canadian wilderness."

"Ah." A beat. "Naked camping?"

"Ashley!"

"What?"

"That's not what this trip is about. Remember? You, me, just friends?"

Ashley snorted and muttered under her breath. "Yeah, naked friends."

To the brunette's delight, Spencer laughed. "You're incorrigible."

Ashley shrugged nonchalantly. "Eh, it's why you love me. And hey, I was just joking. You know, teasing? Like _friends_ do?"

Spencer sent her a look that was far too suggestive to be just friendly. "Don't even get me started on your 'teasing.'"

_Okay_, Ashley thought to herself, _been way too long since I've seen _that_ look. Down girl. Breathe._

Though elated that the playful banter hadn't disappeared from their relationship in light of recent events, she was now being reminded of just how turned on she could get from a mere look from Spencer. It could prove difficult when alone with her secluded in the woods.

_Now who's incorrigible? _She reverted back to the original topic. "So camping, huh? Isn't your mom going to, like, freak out? Try to keep you locked in your room or something?"

"No more than if we were going to Cabo," the blonde shrugged. "I'll talk to my dad about it. Then we'll have to figure out what we'll need to bring."

The older girl looked up as though in deep thought. "Hmm…food…tent…sleeping bags…food…"

"You said food already."

Ashley went on as if not hearing Spencer. "…cooking utensils, passports, and…um…"

"Clothes?"

"No, that's not it…." _Smack_. "Ow! What was that for?"

Spencer merely shook her head with a fond chuckle. She looked up to see Ashley grinning brilliantly, her nose crinkling adorably. The blonde couldn't help but smile back, head tilted to the side.

"Look, I should get inside. I have homework to do, but call me later?"

"Always." Ashley watched as Spencer climbed out of the convertible. "Later, Spence."

"Bye, Ash."

* * *

"I still can't believe you booked us a private jet."

"Just testament to the wonder that is me."

"More like the wonder that is your twelve million dollar inheritance."

"Twelve _point five_, thank you."

"Ooo, I'm terribly sorry."

The two girls stood on the landing strip next to the small white and red jet that would be carrying them north into Canada. Their camping gear and supplies were being loaded into the cargo hold by two airport personnel.

Ashley adjusted her sunglasses. "So what did your mom say?"

"Um…"

"You did _tell her_ didn't you?"

"Well…"

"Spencer Carlin, I'm shocked."

The blonde shifted nervously. "Dad said he'd tell her once we were in the air. That way Mom couldn't drive out and park in front of the plane or something.

"You're so going to be grounded when you get back."

"'til Kingdom come. You will write to me, won't you?"

"Yes, but I'll probably have to have Glen deliver the letters."

"Yeah."

The two shared a smile. Spencer turned her attention back to the plane, but Ashley kept her eyes trained on the beautiful blonde for a few prolonged moments before also looking away.

"So what province are we going to again?" Spencer wondered.

Ashley's forehead creased. "Wait…Canada has provinces? I thought it was just, you know…" she gestured vaguely with her hands, "_Canada_."

"Ashley," Spencer groaned, drawing the girl's name out.

The brunette smirked. "Ontario. Some national park I can't remember the name of." She bounced on the balls of her feet. "Are they done yet?"

"Someone's impatient."

"Spencer, it's six in the morning. We've already been here an hour."

"Aw, are you sleepy?"

"Damn straight!"

Ashley's will must have been divine law because a middle-aged man in a pilot uniform walked over to them. "Ms. Davies and Ms. Carlin?" Both girls looked at him expectantly. "I'm Jason. I'll be your pilot today. We're ready for you whenever you are."

"About damn time."

Spencer put a hand on Ashley's shoulder. "I think what my friend means is that we're good to go."

"Great. Now, there's just a few things I need to go over with you, standard procedure and all…"

Ashley zoned out while Jason spoke, whether from boredom or the tingling sensation Spencer's hand left, she didn't know. Probably both. She knew she should be listening. It was most likely important, so she tried focusing on what the pilot was saying. She caught something about safety belts and a survival kit, but then Spencer's hand brushed against hers as the blonde shifted her stance, and her mind floated off again. It was certainly going to be an interesting weekend.

As the two girls took their seats in the small aircraft, Spencer gave her friend a playful poke in the arm. "Were you even listening to him at all?"

"I was trying," Ashley nearly whined. "I swear!" When the blonde rolled her eyes, the brunette smirked slyly. "Such is the influence you hold over my senses."

"Uh huh."

Once they were in the air, Spencer reached into her jeans pocket. She frowned, and she checked the other front pocket. When both turned up empty, she checked her back pockets.

"Crap," she murmured.

"What?"

"I think I left my cell at home."

"Relax. It's not like you'd get a signal up there anyways. Besides, I have mine, so we're good."

Spencer sat back in her seat. Then she squirmed. "Mom is so going to kill me."

Completely on cue, Ashley's phone gave out a chime signaling an incoming text message.

"Speak of the she-devil herself," the brunette muttered, digging the phone out of her pocket. She flipped it open. "Oh look, it's from you, Spence," she said dryly.

Spencer took the phone from Ashley and read the text out loud. "'Mom is going to kill you both.'" The brunette beside her tried unsuccessfully to cover a snort. "Wonderful. Thank you, Glen." After sending a response to her brother, she snapped the cell shut and handed it back to a grinning Ashley. "Shut up, it's not funny."

Ashley waved it off with a hand gesture before concealing her mouth with her fingers. "Of course not."

After a few moments of silence, Spencer spoke again. "So, your mom would adopt me, right?"

The brunette didn't miss a beat. "She'd probably like you better than me, so I don't see why not."

Even though her tone was lighthearted, Ashley knew Spencer would see right through to the bitterness. Sure enough, she felt a soft hand squeeze hers, however briefly. She smiled but didn't look back at the blonde. Spencer had always been good at that. Seeing past the smiles and laughs and sarcasm. It was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with the Ohio native.

"Spence?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For coming with me."

Ashley could tell Spencer wanted to say something but merely settled for a nod. With that said, the older girl took out her iPod, popped the earpieces into her ears, leaned back, and closed her eyes.

* * *

Hours later, Ashley awoke with a start as the plane lurched. "What the f—"

"Hang on ladies," the pilot nearly shouted back to them over the engine noise. "We're hitting a bit of turbulence."

The plane rocked again, and Ashley tore the earpieces out of her ears. "A bit? Jesus fucking Christ!"

"Ash…"

Looking over at Spencer, Ashley saw that she was paler than usual. "Sorry. You okay over there?" The girl didn't answer. "Hey, just so we're clear, is this the I'm-scared-out-of-my-f-ing-mind kind of not okay, or the I'm-going-to-vomit-all-over-you kind of not okay?"

"Not sure…maybe a little of both."

"Oh." The brunette noticed a ring of frost forming around the window beside Spencer. Beyond it, she saw nothing but gray haze. "Hey, look at the pretty ice."

Just as the words left her mouth, both girls heard the pilot speaking into his headset. Most of his words could not be heard over the engine's drone, which seemed to have changed pitch from what they remembered, but they did pick out a few: turbulence; freezing; change; course. They exchanged glances when the plane began to turn.

"Hey, what's going on?" Ashley asked.

"We're changing course to go around this cold front," Jason replied as the plane jerked yet again. "Just a precautionary measure."

The brunette looked to Spencer, who shook her head. He wasn't telling them something. As though to prove that very point, the engine sputtered and spat. Jason immediately worked his hands over the controls of the console while speaking into the headset once again. The first word the girls caught clearly was the only they needed to hear. Mayday. The jet bucked violently in another bout of turbulence.

"Are you both strapped in back there?" Jason yelled.

"Yeah!"

"Stay that way. We're making an emergency landing, and it's not going to be gentle."

The sputter of the engine suddenly stopped altogether, and the propellers began to slow. Spencer and Ashley watched in shocked enthrallment as Jason worked to keep the plane in a controlled descent. They came out of the clouds and into blue sky, but time would not turn back. The engine had died, stalled by the frozen precipitation of a Canadian cold front.

Neither girl had to be told.

Save for the endless speech into the pilot's radio, the cabin was eerily quiet. A vicious downdraft slammed into the plane, and Jason's words were cut short as his head collided with his side window. The plane swerved as the now limp pilot inadvertently pressed down one rudder and turned the wheel.

Ashley, eyes wide, looked over to Spencer. The blonde was staring out the window at the blue sky, only turning to her friend when she felt a hand cover of her own…


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

_(Present)_  
Ashley groaned.

Waking up was quickly becoming one of her worst ideas ever. Her head was throbbing, her ears were ringing, and her entire body felt like it had been run over by a steam roller.

Then she made the mistake of opening her eyes.

Colors and objects were swimming and swirling, and a fierce nausea settled into her stomach. Her first coherent thought was wondering how much she had had to drink to get a hangover this bad. She fumbled with the contraption holding her down, grabbing blindly for something, anything to help her stand. Her hand closed around a metal bar, and she pushed her weight against it. The latch released, the door opened, and she stumbled out, landing with a grunt on the ground.

She felt grass beneath her palms. The throbbing in her head intensified with her fall, and she gingerly touched her forehead. Her fingertips came away wet and sticky, coated in red.

…_the hell? _When her surroundings began to come into focus, she grew even more confused. _A plane? When the hell did I— _The memories flooded back to her, swarming around a single thought. _Spencer_. Canada. Private jet. Frozen engine. Plane crash.

"…penzer…?" her voice croaked out. As she staggered to her feet, she licked her lips, swallowed a few times and tried again, her tone more worried. "Spencer?" She peered through the open door of the jet and saw the blonde slumped forward in her seat, the seatbelt strapping her in place. "Spence…"

Ashley climbed into the plane and tentatively touched the girl's cheek. Gently, she shook the blonde's shoulder. Answered with a groan, she blew out a breath of relief. Moving closer, she examined her friend's position. The plane had turned at some point in its crash landing and skidded into a large tree. Spencer's window was shattered, and blood was flowing from a gash on her left temple. What Ashley noticed next formed ice in the pit of her stomach: a tree branch had penetrated the jet's fuselage and pierced Spencer's left shoulder.

Biting her lip, Ashley made her way to the cockpit. She nearly gagged as her eyes fell on the bloodied and smashed face of the pilot. Two trembling fingers pressed against the pulse point of his neck, but no reassuring beat was found. That's when she noticed the smell. Burning. Singing. Oil. She looked out the broken windshield and saw steady tendrils of smoke rising from the nose of the plane. Sparks jumped from the consoles.

"Shit…" Swallowing the bile taste of panic, Ashley turned to Spencer and released the girl's seatbelt. She touched the branch, but it was still firmly attached to the tree. The brunette caught sight of a flickering orange glow out of the corner of her eye.

The engine was catching fire.

It was only a matter of time before the fire spread down the fuel line to the fuel reservoir. With time not on her side and a whispered apology, Ashley wrenched the offending wood from her friend's shoulder and pulled the girl from her seat.

The flames grew.

With all her strength, the small brunette hoisted Spencer out of the side hatch and dragged her a safe distance away. Standing, she stared at the plane. A thought crossed her mind.

_Camping…our gear._Urgency driving her every step, Ashley ran back to the plane and jumped inside, immediately turning to the cargo hold behind the passenger seats. _Okay, Davies, this is either really cool or really stupid. Maybe both._

She tore the cargo net off their gear and began throwing their stuff out the hatch. Her backpack. Spencer's backpack. The tent bundle. The sleeping bags. As smoke filled the plane, she remembered the pilot mentioning something about a survival kit. She spotted the large metal case near the back and crawled over to it. She unbuckled the strap securing it to the plane and pulled on the handle. The heavy case slid begrudgingly across the floor until it, too, was unceremoniously shoved outside. In the back of her mind, Ashley heard a distinct crack as it landed.

Choking on smoke and eyes stinging, Ashley did a final visual sweep of the cargo hold. Her gaze landed on the duffle bag with their food and supplies. A shrill whine came from the engine, and a small eruption jostled the plane. She lost her balance and fell onto her rear. Foregoing the last of their bags, the brunette scrambled up and launched herself out of the plane. Frantically, she threw the scattered packs as far from the crash sight as she could.

There was a pop and then eerie silence. Ashley turned towards Spencer just as the explosion ripped through the forest, and she was again knocked to the ground. Arms shaking, the brunette picked herself up enough to crawl away from the combusting plane. Reaching Spencer's side, Ashley checked for a pulse. Finding one strong and steady, the girl collapsed onto her side, one arm draped over her friend as darkness claimed her.


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

Slowly, she woke up. Feeling Spencer lying next to her, she instinctively snuggled closer and breathed in deeply. Her half-asleep mind paused as she noticed an odd mixture to the blonde's usual scent. Coconut milk. Orchid. A hint of strawberry.

Smoke and blood?

Ashley bolted upright, wincing as a sharp ache shot all the way from her toes to her head. As quickly as she could get her eyes to focus, she took stock of her surroundings. Spencer was still unconscious, breathing steadily as she slept. The puncture wound in the blonde's shoulder was still oozing blood, but it seemed to be clotting well. The plane was continuing to churn up wisps of smoke, but the fire had burned itself out. Their gear lay strewn about the area, untouched by the explosion. Through the trees, the sun was still high in the sky.

Her attention was drawn back to Spencer. That wound would have to be taken care of. Her mind was drawing a blank until her eyes landed once again on the large metal case: the survival kit. Figuring there would be first aid supplies within, Ashley pushed herself off the ground and walked over to it on shaky legs. The case was quite large, nearly a foot and a half deep, the same width, and almost two feet in length. Pulling it upright, Ashley noticed the latches had popped, and the lid had opened. Her mind wandered back to the cracking sound as she shoved it out of the plane.

Shaking it off to focus on Spencer's injury, she threw the lid open. On the very top was a box-like device that had an odd rattle to it. Setting it aside without much thought, the brunette continued to rummage through the kit, taking mental note of what was inside: a compass; butane lighters and miniature fire-starters; two flashlights with extra batteries; a few simple utensils, such as a can opener, spoons, forks, a small pan, and what looked to be a folding rack; food rations and a few bottles of water; fishing line; a hunting knife; a medium-sized axe; a disassembled hunting rifle with a box of cartridges; a flare gun with extra flares; a white metal box with a red cross painted on the lid, and also a space blanket.

She laughed out loud when she came across a roll of duct tape. "Awesome…."

The noise must have pulled Spencer from unconsciousness, because the blonde began to stir. Hearing a few quiet whimpers, Ashley carefully put everything except the first aid kit back into the survival case and latched the lid shut.

"Ashley?" a very disoriented Spencer called fearfully.

The brunette looked up from her task. "Over here."

When the blonde shifted her gaze to where the gentle voice came from, Ashley could see the relief spread across the other girl's face. It was strangely reminiscent of the morning after their first night together. With the first aid kit in hand, Ashley returned to Spencer's side.

"Are you okay?"

The younger girl licked her dry lips. "I…" She trailed off and lifted a hand to Ashley's forehead. "You're hurt."

The brunette flinched at the touch, recalling the blood she had found on herself before the plane blew up. "I'll be fine, but you need to—"

Spencer hissed in pain.

"—not try to sit up," Ashley finished as the girl fell back flat on the ground. "Yeah, you kind of had a tree go through your shoulder."

Spencer lifted her head just enough to look at the source of her agony and groaned. "Stupid nature."

Ashley chuckled in spite of herself. "Told ya we should have gone to Cabo."

"Don't. Start," the blonde warned, a grin threatening to break through her glare.

To hide her smirk, the brunette positioned the two sleeping bag rolls behind Spencer and helped her friend to sit up against them. "So, do you think we can get this shirt off you?"

Even through the grimace that arose from her movement, Spencer quirked a brow. "Really, Ash? Now?"

"So I can take a look at that hole in your shoulder, jeez!"

"Uh huh, sure. You don't fool me at all, Davies."

Ashley continued to grin, but it slipped away, Spencer's soon following. The blonde shifted her gaze to the plane. A look came over her face as though she was just realizing what had happened.

Ashley touched a palm to Spencer's cheek. "Hey, we're going to be okay. We'll get through this, I promise."

A hush settled over the girls as Ashley slowly, gingerly peeled the shirt from Spencer's torso. The only sounds came from Spencer's quiet instructions on cleansing her wound and her muffled whimpers that accompanied every touch. The older girl worked almost mechanically as she listened to what the blonde had learned from her mother. She flushed the wound with sterile saline, making sure to get all the debris out. She gently scrubbed the area with the antiseptic solution before rinsing that off, as well. Throwing on a pair of latex gloves, she broke open a pack of sterile suture.

She hesitated and looked to Spencer. "Do you want something to bite on?"

"Just do it."

With a deep breath, Ashley poked the suture needle through the skin at the edge of the wound. The blonde winced with a hiss before biting her lip as her friend continued. Spencer's knowledge did not extend to proper suture technique, so Ashley pretty much made it up as she went. Tying a knot at the end she started at, she slowly sewed the wound closed, trying to make sure the edges of skin met as neatly as she could manage. To take her mind off the burning pain, Spencer asked what had happened after the plane crashed. The brunette told her as much as could be sorted from her jumbled memories.

"Jason?" Ashley shook her head, and Spencer didn't press further. The blonde was quiet for several minutes before speaking again. "So, you…you pulled me out?"

"What was I going to do? Leave you there? Yeah, um, no." Tying the final knot at the other end of the wound, she cut the remaining suture off with the small scissors and blew out the breath she had been periodically holding. "Okay, gross, yuck, ew. I never want to have to do that again, so if you rip those sutures open, Spencer Carlin, you're on your own."

The blonde gave a short laugh, then winced. An antibiotic ointment was spread over the incision site, followed by a gauze pad. Ashley bandaged the shoulder as best she could, using Spencer's already ruined shirt. With a length of gauze roll, she fashioned a simple sling to prevent the girl's arm from swinging too much. When she was finished with that, she cleaned the gash on Spencer's temple in the same manner as the girl's shoulder. It wasn't deep, so they decided to leave it open.

"There," Ashley announced. "Good as new."

"Wow, Ash. You could be a doctor."

"Or a really sexy nurse. You know I'd look hot in a nurse uniform."

"Um, I don't think real nurses wear the kind of uniform you're picturing, Ash." The brunette pouted. "You'd still be hot, though."

"Damn straight," Ashley confirmed with a nod and a grin.

"Your turn."

"What?"

Spencer gestured with her good arm. "You have a cut on your forehead that needs to be cleaned."

"Oh. Okay."

As Spencer washed the blood and dirt away, Ashley gazed up at her, studying her smoky blue eyes. When the blonde caught her staring, she quickly looked away, finding something interesting on the ground to focus on. Finished, Spencer leaned back with another grimace as her shoulder shifted.

Ashley continued to watch her. "I could have taken care of that, you know."

"I know."

The brunette's trademark smirk slid into place. "You just can't keep your hands off the hotness that is me," she teased, winning a smile from the other girl. Her expression softened. "So, how are you doing?"

Spencer stared at the ground. "I've been better. I just can't believe this is happening. What are we gong to do?"

"Not sure…" A light bulb went on in Ashley's mind, and she dug into her pocket. Pulling out her cell phone, she stared blankly at it.

"No signal?" Spencer guessed.

With an unreadable expression, the brunette tipped her hand and let her phone—or rather, the pieces of her phone—fall to the ground. "Oops. Guess I landed on it a few too many times. Damn, and I liked that phone."

A second light bulb went on, and she went over to the survival kit. Opening it, she took out the device she had found earlier. Sure enough, it seemed to be a radio transmitter. Studying the buttons and dials, she flipped the on/off switch and glanced at the tiny LED light next to it. The window did not light up. She pressed random buttons and turned the dials, but still nothing happened. It was then she remembered the rattling noise it made. Examining the plastic casing more closely, Ashley found a rather severe crack and the sound of some unidentifiable part rolling around inside. In frustration, she threw the device to the ground.

"DAMNIT! What is it with me breaking everything?"

Spencer slumped. "Well, maybe if you hadn't been so careless when unloading the gear—"

"I had to be! The plane was gonna blow up!"

"Exactly! Which means you shouldn't have gone back into it in the first place!"

"…_What_? We needed that gear if we—"

"YOU COULD HAVE _DIED_, ASH!" Spencer suddenly yelled. "Then what would I have done? I'd be stuck here all alone and hurt and broken and I couldn't take that! I can't do this without you, Ash! I can't have you leave me because I need you, and if you died, then I'd die, too, because I—"

The rest of Spencer's rant was cut off when Ashley's lips crashed into hers. The kiss lasted only seconds before the brunette pulled away to stare into the blonde's eyes.

"Wha…what was that for?" Spencer asked, more than a little dazed and confused.

"Sorry, but you were panicking, and I needed you to stop." The older girl shrugged. "It was either kiss you or slap you. I opted for the more fun."

"Oh."

"Listen to me, Spence. I know what I did was stupid, but I had to. We need that gear. With the cell phone and radio busted, and the cockpit blown all to hell, it's the only chance we have." Ashley took Spencer's hand and placed it over her heart. "I'm right here, and I'm not going to leave you. Okay?"

The blonde wrapped her good arm around Ashley's neck and buried her face into the other girl's neck. The brunette held her friend close, sinking into the embrace as she tried to block out the What Ifs Spencer's words had stirred.


	5. Chapter Four

_I've made fun of Canada a lot in this story, but rest assured it's all in jest. Really. I swear. I suppose I should put a warning here for Ashley's rather excessive use of expletives during a particular portion of this chapter._

_Thank you everyone for all the wonderful reviews! Happy New Year!_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Spencer shivered in Ashley's arms.

"Cold?"

"We're in the middle of the Canadian forest, and I don't have a shirt on."

Pulling a hoodie out of the blonde's backpack, Ashley carefully slipped it onto her friend before replacing her arm in the sling. She then looked up through the canopy of trees.

"The sun's going to set in a couple hours. I should probably get the tent up."

Despite repeated offers of help, Ashley insisted her friend rest. Still, Spencer stood from the ground and handed the brunette various pieces of equipment until she was forcibly dragged to a tree and told to stay there. Ashley knew the blonde was trying to hide how much her shoulder hurt and could practically hear her grinding her teeth against the pain. Ashley herself had a killer headache while she struggled with the tent, cursing, muttering, and refraining from throwing things for almost an hour and a half.

"Ugh, this is what boys are for," she muttered, making Spencer giggle. "I could be lying on the warm sand working on my tan while half-naked cabana boys bring me margaritas and piña coladas with the little umbrellas in them, but nooo. I have to be stuck in the most uninteresting country in the world, in the middle of the fucking forest with no phone, no internet, no TV, no _plumbing_, and no take-out while I tie sticks and sheets together to sleep under like some uncivilized, white trash, tree-hugging hermit. Ugh, this is _so_ beneath me. Stupid Canada and its…Canada-ness."

Spencer's laughter grew louder and more uncontrolled as her friend's rant progressed, and she failed miserably to keep a straight face when Ashley threw a friendly glare her way. Finally, the shelter was erect and sturdy, and the sleeping bags were unrolled within.

"Not going to connect them?" Spencer wondered.

Ashley looked up at the blonde. She hadn't wanted to presume, but taking the question as permission, she zipped the two bags together. She pushed aside any inappropriate thoughts, knowing Spencer well enough to know that she was scared and needing her best friend, not her (ex) lover.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving," Ashley said as she crawled back out of the tent. " Um…our food bag is kinda…uh, still in the plane."

Both girls glanced over at the charred remains of the private jet. "Oh," was all Spencer said.

"But, hey, we have a vast selection of granola bars, soup, and freeze-dried meals." Ashley dug around in the survival case as she spoke. "Well, since I don't feel like cooking, have a granola bar."

She smirked as she tossed one to Spencer, but the blonde was not smiling back. Instead, she mutely sat down in the tent, unwrapped the bar and took a bite. Frowning, Ashley followed suit.

"What's wrong?" She didn't get a response. "Spence? Spencer, come on, what is it?"

"Do you think they'll find us?"

Although Ashley had been expecting the question for some time, it didn't make it easier. She didn't bother trying to sugarcoat her answer. Spencer would see right through it.

"I don't know, Spence. As far as I can guess, we're way off course from where we're supposed to be. Even if we knew where we were, we don't have a way to contact anyone. We could be five miles away from people, or we could be fifty miles. There's just no way to know."

Spencer's shoulders sagged. "What are we going to do?"

The younger girl sounded so fragile, and Ashley hated it. It reminded her of just how fragile she herself was under the tough exterior, but she had to be strong. For Spencer.

"The sun is setting, and we've both had a long fricking day. Get some sleep and we'll think of a game plan in the morning, okay?"

Spencer nodded. After washing down the granola with a few gulps of the bottled water, Ashley helped the blonde crawl into the sleeping bag. Zipping the tent flap closed, she slid in beside Spencer, lying on her back and staring at the shelter's roof.

"'night, Spence."

There was a short pause. "'night, Ash."

The brunette lay awake, watching the silhouettes of nocturnal insects crawl on the outside of the tent. Crickets chirped incessantly. Intermittent winds whistled through the trees. Distant echoes of howling wolves reached their camp as thoughts of Spencer's question ran endlessly through Ashley's mind. _What are we going to do?_

The radios were dead. Spencer was nearly incapacitated, and if her wound became infected, they would have a very urgent problem. The tent would not hold up against a heavy storm if one came up. They would probably be able to find a water source, but their food rations would not last long. That, of course, raised a whole other question: did they stay near the crash site, did they go looking for a different area to settle at, or did they stay on the move in search of a town?

It was long past dark when she finally closed her eyes. She felt a warm hand slip into hers, and she drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

The next morning, Ashley awoke to find Spencer's face nuzzled into the crook of her neck and their legs tangled together. She smiled: the blonde had always been a snuggler. Not that Ashley minded. At the current moment, however, she really had to pee. 

As smoothly as she could, she disentangled herself from the blonde without waking her—a skill she had perfected over her many 'encounters' in her young adult life. Quietly slipping her jacket on and unzipping the tent flap, she stepped outside into the cool morning air. She wished she had a watch so she would know what time it was, but that's what cell phones were supposed to be good for, right? The sky still had an orange tint, unlike when she woke up for school, so she guessed it was sometime before seven.

She did her business behind a tree and stretched her arms high into the air. Her stomach growled loudly. After poking her head back into the tent to check on Spencer, Ashley wandered around their camp area, picking up whatever sticks she found on the ground. She cleared out a circular area of grass and scratched a shallow hole into the earth with one of the sticks. The crude fire pit made, she threw sticks into it, flipped a butane lighter on, and held it to the timber.

Nothing happened.

"Piece of shit…" She tried lighting the wood from a different angle, but the fire still didn't catch. "Okaaaay. What the fuck? Sticks plus lighter equals fire." She was just barely keeping her voice down so she wouldn't wake her friend. She tried a third time with the same result. "Jesus fucking Christ! Goddamn wood, I hate you!"

Even in her frustration, she still chuckled at the double entendre. _Good thing Spencer didn't hear that, or she'd probably have my ass in a sling. Although…heh, Spence can have my ass any day…Damnit, Davies, focus!_

A fourth attempt was made. Another string of expletives was rattled off. "What, am I in the fucking Stone Age or something? Jesus Christ. Cavemen didn't have lighters, so how the fuck are they better than me? Son of a bitch. This is what electricity is for. Goddamn Canadians and their fucking wilderness."

She considered just using a fire starter, even though she didn't want to use one if she didn't have to. Sighing, she took one of the small logs out of the survival kit. She was about to set it into the fire pit, when she paused, staring at the object quizzically. The log was wrapped in paper, and it was the wrapper that she was supposed to light.

"Okay," she mumbled quietly, "so, I need something easy for the fire to catch on."

Putting the synthetic log aside, she gathered up a handful of dry brush from the edge of camp and set it under the pile of sticks. Touching the triggered lighter to the grassy heap, the flames caught immediately and soon spread to the wood on top. Within minutes, Ashley had a small blaze going steadily. She grinned smugly.

The wire cooking rack was unfolded and placed over the fire, and two packs of the nameless foil-wrapped meals were set on top. With that, Ashley took out her iPod—which had somehow managed to come through the crash and aftermath unscathed, unlike her phone—reclined on the ground next to the fire, and bobbed her foot up and down to the beat of her music. When a foot nudged her, she cracked one eye open, squinting in the tree-filtered sunlight. Spencer was staring down at her, head tilted and smiling in amusement, so Ashley removed her ear pieces.

"Good morning," the blonde greeted cheerfully.

"Morning."

"Making yourself right at home, aren't you, Ash?"

Sitting up, the brunette merely shrugged. "How's the shoulder?"

Carefully, Spencer lowered herself to the ground next to her friend. "Throbbing. Shooting pains and all."

"I'm sorry. Did you sleep well, at least?"

"Somewhat. You?"

Ashley pouted. "I miss my big fluffy bed. I am _so_ not meant to sleep on the ground. I was warm, though. Had my nice comfy blankie wrapped around me," she explained with a smirk.

Spencer blushed and stared into the fire. "I still do that, huh?"

"It's not like I'm complaining. I've missed it."

The blonde didn't say anything. Her expression was unreadable as her eyes remained fixed on the flickering flames. Ashley almost apologized for the admission, but she closed her mouth before the words could come. After all, she had told Spencer that she wouldn't ever give up, and she had meant it.

"So, do we dare try to eat this weird astronaut food?"

Spencer let out a laugh. "Do we even know what's in it?"

"No. For all I know, I just roasted cereal or freeze-dried goat cheese wafers or something."

The other girl's face scrunched up. "Ew. Well in that case, after you, Ms. Davies."


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

After breakfast, which turned out to be beef cutlets and potatoes (and may as well have been roasted cardboard), Ashley gathered together a few items from the survival kit: the hunting knife was looped onto her belt, the flare gun and a bottle of water were put into her jacket pockets, and the compass was kept in hand.

Spencer watched curiously. "Where're we going?"

"_We_ aren't going anywhere. I'm going to have a look around, and you're going to stay here."

"Ash—"

"Don't argue with me, Spence. You need to give that wound at least a few days to heal before you start traipsing needlessly through the woods and exerting yourself." The blonde opened her mouth, but Ashley cut her off. "You know I'm right."

"I don't want to be left here all alone."

"I'm not going far. I just want to see what's close by."

"But isn't it best for us to stay together?" Spencer insisted.

Ashley gave her a look. "In a perfect world." The implication was not lost on the blonde, but she didn't respond to it. "Please stay here, Spence? I don't want you to get hurt more than you already are."

Spencer crossed her arms, a rather awkward gesture considering her left arm was in a sling. Her pout was magnificent. "Fine."

"I promise I'll try not to be gone too long."

"And what am I supposed to do here by myself?"

"Catch up on your much needed beauty sleep?"

Spencer pretended to glare. "Cute. Very cute."

Ashley flashed a dazzling smile. "I know I am, thank you." She touched a single fingertip to the blonde's cheek. "See you soon."

* * *

"Fucking nature," Ashley grumbled as she tripped on a well-camouflaged tree root for the fourth time. Regaining her footing, she kicked the offending obstacle and continued on her way. She had been exploring the land surrounding the crash site for what she guessed was over two hours, winding around trees, climbing over fallen logs, and pushing through tall brush. She had yet to find anything of special note. Breathing hard, she stopped against a tree and took a drink from her bottle of water. It was relatively cool out—for which she was thankful, as it kept the bugs away—but Ashley still had to wipe the sweat from her brow. Longingly, she thought of a long relaxing bath with luxuriously hot water and bubbles up to the ceiling. 

With a sigh—or more accurately, a groan—she pushed off from the tree and continued on her way, ever vigilant of her heading. An attentive eye regularly returned to the compass needle, and a mental record was scrupulously kept so that she would always know the near-exact direction the crash site was from her location. Inevitably, though, as she wandered, so did her mind.

_How the hell did I get into this mess? _she wondered. _We shouldn't be here. Spencer and I should be in Cabo drinking margaritas on the beach. Naked. Yes, we would definitely be naked because Spencer and I would be together, and damnit, why aren't we together!? I love her, damnit, so how could I screw us up so badly?_

She thought about the night Spencer had ended things. How they had shared that amazing kiss, and everything had felt perfect again until the blonde backtracked to rip her heart out and smear it across Ashley's life. She felt the prick of tears as she remembered watching the love of her life walk away from her, saying how that very love wasn't enough.

Her steps grew more careless as her focus continued to drift.

Two months. Two months she had been away. That she had _run_ away, and not once did she call the one she claimed to love more than anything. She had wanted to. She had _tried_ to, but she had always chickened out at the last second. _Almost doesn't count, Davies. But that's you, isn't it? Half-assed, noncommittal, cold-hearted coward. _But she wasn't cold-hearted, despite what most people believed. She loved Spencer with everything she had.

_I just suck at showing it_.

She had failed to show Spencer her love, and now the two were trapped in the middle of nowhere because of it, and Ashley had no idea how to get them out. She didn't belong out there. She was Ashley Davies, daughter of a famous rock star, big-city rich girl with the mansion and the Porsche and the house staff and everything she could ever want to make her life comfortable and the money to buy everything else. She barely knew how to make Mac n' Cheese and do her own laundry, and she had completely decimated the best thing going on in her life; how was she supposed to survive out in the wilderness and keep Spencer alive, too?

Her foot once again hooked under a tree root, and she fell flat on her face. With her vision blurred and her emotions raw, Ashley pushed herself to her feet and rammed her fist into the tree trunk with all her strength. The pain did not register with her as she punched the tree again and again, screaming in frustration and anger and grief until no more screams would come. When all became silent, and her strength gave out, Ashley sank to the ground, back against the tree and head in her hands. Her shoulders heaved as sobs wracked her body.

For the moment, she was glad she was stuck alone in a forest. Rare was the occasion anyone was allowed to see her like this, even Spencer. Ashley Davies does not crack. She does not show pain or weakness and keeps her emotions in check. The last time any such collapse of her walls had occurred was when her father had died, and the time before that, when her unborn child died. She couldn't remember a time before that. Aiden had been there when she miscarried. Spencer had been there when Raife died. But when the time came for Ashley to return that same grace, she turned tail and ran, unable to deal with her own pain, let alone someone else's.

She bit her lip. The haze of emotion was lifting, and the stinging in her hand accompanied the dull ache her anger left behind. Raising her head, she saw that her right hand was bleeding, the soft flesh of her knuckles torn by the rough bark. She sighed, wondering how she was going to explain it to Spencer. _She'll never let it go if I don't tell her… _More than that, Spencer always knew when Ashley was lying. The brunette could fool everybody else, but never the intuitive blonde.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft trickling noise. Intrigued, Ashley stood and walked in the direction she believed it to be coming from, compass still in hand. The tricking became a light swishing. Then, through a break in the trees, she saw rocky banks along a shallow stream.

Her earlier breakdown temporarily forgotten, she ran the distance to the brook's edge and knelt down beside it. Slowly, almost reverently, she dipped the fingers of her uninjured hand in, finding the water to be cool. Cupping her palm, she scooped a handful out and sipped it into her mouth. The water tasted clean.

Now overjoyed that she finally found something helpful, Ashley refilled her bottle and then washed her bloodied hand in the gently moving water. Refreshed, she turned around to head straight back to their camp. Twice, she tripped, but not once did she fall.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

It was a little before midday by the time Ashley made it back to the crash site. Entering the camp, she saw that the fire had gone out, despite there being a pile of wood nearby. Spencer was nowhere in sight. She quietly walked to the tent and poked her head though the flap. Seeing her friend sitting inside, Ashley started to greet the other girl but stopped when she noticed her appearance.

Spencer was huddled in the corner, legs drawn up and hugged to her chest. Her face was drained of color. A thin sheet of sweat covered her forehead. Her entire body was trembling. Ashley crawled to her side and put a hand on one of her knees.

"Spence, are you okay? What's wrong?"

The blonde opened her mouth and moved her lips, but sound didn't come out. She paused, licked her lips, and tried again. She spoke slowly. "I couldn't just sit around and do nothing, so I decided to pick up some more wood for the fire—"

"Spencer!"

"—and then I thought I'd poke around the plane," the blonde continued, not really hearing Ashley's reprimand. "You know, to see if there was anything that could be useful. But then I…I saw…I saw Jason…"

Ashley cringed. "Oh, Spence…"

"…what was left of him…"

The brunette pulled her friend into an embrace, trying to soothe the shaking girl by rubbing her back. Ashley swore to herself. The younger girl should never have had to see that, especially not with Clay's death so recent.

"I'm so sorry." The words sounded ridiculous out loud, but she didn't know what else to say.

"That could have been you, Ash," Spencer sobbed against the older girl's shoulder.

"It could've been either one of us," Ashley corrected. She pulled back to look into Spencer's eyes, keeping one hand on her cheek and the other on her good shoulder. "But it wasn't. I'm right here and—"

Spencer cut her friend off, thrusting her chin forward and crushing her lips against Ashley's. Without thinking, the brunette leaned into the kiss, drawing it out as long as she could before the blonde broke away. It was desperate and brief, but it made Ashley's heart race and breaths hasten all the same. Consciously working to keep her breathing under control, the older girl studied Spencer through darkened eyes. The blonde still had her eyes closed, but her trembling had lessened, and a bit of color had returned to her cheeks.

Ashley pulled the girl closer so that their foreheads touched. "It's okay," she whispered.

They stayed that way for a while, Ashley holding Spencer and stroking her hair. The brunette knew this was how it was supposed to have been after prom. Well no, actually if she was going to wish for things to have gone differently, she wished that that she hadn't been an idiot, that Aiden hadn't gotten in the way, and that no one got shot.

_Oh, that's great, Ash,_ she scolded herself._ Why not just wish for world peace and the end of hunger while you're at it. That'll fix everything._ She sighed inwardly. _Hindsight's such a bitch._

It dawned on her that she needed to stop dwelling on her past mistakes and start working towards never letting them happen again. She may not have been there for Spencer when Clay died, but she sure as hell was going to be there for her now. Throughout the mess they were in and forever after, if Spencer would let her. Even if it was only ever as a friend. Ashley was determined not to let her best friend down again.

Reluctantly, Ashley pulled back, letting her hands drop from Spencer's silken hair. "So…I found a stream. Clean water. It's a ways, uh…that a-way," she finished, pointing through the tent wall.

Spencer lifted her head, looking much more composed. "That's great, Ash."

"I figure we can move camp to the water's edge, then we can follow the stream to see if it leads anywhere interesting."

"Sounds like a plan."

Ashley beamed. Her face then fell as she glanced up at the tent. She blew out a breath. "Damn. And I just got this thing up yesterday."

The girls began packing their gear up. Ashley didn't have the heart to tell Spencer to stop helping, so she settled for keeping an eye on her friend to make sure she didn't overdo it. The tent came down much easier than it went up, the bags were refilled with their belongings and supplies, and the fire pit was buried under a few handfuls of dirt.

Spencer shouldered her backpack with her good arm and picked up her sleeping bag. Ashley also swung her backpack on and took the tent bundle in one hand and her sleeping bag in the other. With Spencer now in charge of the compass, the two headed off in the direction of the stream. They walked slowly and stepped carefully, especially the injured blonde.

After two hours, they arrived at their new camp site. As they set their gear down, it did not escape Ashley's attention that Spencer's face was drawn and pale, once again glistening with a sheen of sweat.

"You okay over there?"

"Fine." The blonde's voice wavered even with that single word.

"Spence, maybe you should take it easy for a while. I'll go back an get—"

"You can't carry that survival kit this far by yourself," the blonde argued.

"I'll manage."

"No you won't. I'll rest when we get back. I promise."

The brunette stared at her friend. The blonde's expression was hardened with stubborn resolve. As much as Ashley didn't like it, she knew Spencer's way of dealing with things was to be productive and useful. "All right. Let's go."

The walk to the crash site went faster, and Ashley made a final sweep of the area to make sure they didn't forget anything. Satisfied, the two each grabbed a handle of the survival kit and picked it up between them. On the return journey to the stream, the brunette watched her friend carefully. That is, until a fluffy gray bunny rabbit caught her eye.

"Aw, Spence, look at the cute bunny."

The blonde followed the other girl's gaze through the trees and smiled at seeing the fuzzy little animal. With her eyes not on the ground in front of her, though, she lost her footing on a few half-buried stones. Her end of the metal case crashed to the ground and she fell along with it.

"Spencer!" Ashley cried. She let go of the case completely and dropped to her friend's side. "Oh my god, are you all right?"

Spencer's face was contorted, and her breathing came in uneven spurts. Her left shoulder had collided with the ground, sending sharp searing pain through her body. With slow delicate movements, Ashley helped her stand. With an arm around the blonde's waist, she started walking.

"Come on. Let's get you to camp."

"But what about the case?" Spencer asked breathlessly.

"We're not that far away. I'll get it later."

"But—"

"I'm worried about_ you_, Spencer, not the damn survival kit, okay?"

The blonde could only nod as she leaned against Ashley. After an agonizing fifteen minutes, they made it to the stream. Easing Spencer down into a sitting position, the brunette gently removed the sling and took off the girl's hoodie. Blood had soaked through the makeshift bandage. Blue eyes were clouded with pain and unshed tears.

"Damnit, Spence…" Ashley whispered. "We're going to need clean bandages for that. I'm going back for the kit." She pointed to the ground on which her friend sat. "You. Stay. I'll be back as soon as I can."

After draping the sweatshirt back over Spencer, Ashley took off into the woods at a jog. It didn't take her long to reach the survival kit. Determinedly, she took one handle and began dragging the case over the forest floor. With her thoughts only of taking care of Spencer, she didn't realize she was back at their camp until she was standing in front of the girl in question.

Spencer's face was even more ashen, her breathing hadn't evened out, and she was shivering despite the hot moisture beaded on her forehead. As quickly as she could, Ashley gathered up loose wood from around the grounds, dug out a small hole, and lit a fire near her friend.

Spencer grit her teeth as she shrugged off her sweatshirt. "I'm sorry, Ash, I should have listened to you."

"Wow, now there's something I don't hear every day," Ashley responded, succeeding in bringing a smile to the blonde's face. "I think I need to savor the moment."

"Ash…"

"What? Oh, right. You're bleeding." The brunette gave her best dramatic eye roll-sigh combination. "Forgot." Her smirk slipped away as she unwrapped the blonde's shoulder. The gauze pad was drenched in blood, a sharp contrast to the girl's paled features. "Jeez, Spence, you look like Death."

"Aw, Ash, you sweet talker. You sure know what a girl likes to hear."

Ashley grinned despite her concern. Spencer was still teasing her, and she took it as a good sign. "Spence, you could be dragged by the ankles through all nine circles of Hell and still be beautiful."

The blonde blushed but didn't miss a beat. "Okay, now I _know_ something's wrong because you just made a Dante's Inferno reference."

"Hey! I do homework every once in a while."

"Ashley Davies lowering herself to doing homework? Since when?"

"Well…since I met you…"

Spencer smiled shyly, her blush still blazing across her ashen cheeks. With the first aid kit laying open next to her, Ashley peeled the gauze away from the girl's wound and gently washed the blood away with saline. When the area was clean, she looked closely at the sutures. They all seemed to be firmly in place.

"I don't think you pulled any stitches."

Spencer flinched involuntarily as Ashley's fingers grazed her extremely tender flesh, reapplying the antibiotic ointment. "Good. I'm not sure I could take a needle poking through me again."

"Yeah, well, that just means that you're going to rest when I tell you, young lady, whether you like it or not."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Oh god, never call me 'ma'am,'" Ashley groaned as she bandaged Spencer's shoulder. "No one gets to call me 'ma'am' until I'm fifty. No, wait, I'll still be too hot then…"

Spencer laughed. "Really?"

"Oh yeah, I'll be a total MILF." The blonde snorted, and the brunette amended her earlier statement. "But maybe when I'm eighty."

The sweatshirt was put back on, and the sling was repositioned. Both girls sat quietly by the fire while Ashley took a short break from all the day's activities.

"Ashley?"

"Yeah?"

Spencer leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Ashley smiled softly, eyes fixed on the flickering flames in front of her. "There isn't much of an option. I lo—" She caught herself and rephrased. "I like taking care of you."

Spencer simply nodded. Ashley wasn't sure whose hand found the other's, but soon fingers interlaced and palms pressed together. A full five seconds passed before Spencer again broke the silence.

"Ash?"

"Hm?"

"What happened to your hand?"

_Ah, there it is. Been wondering when that would come up…_ "Um, a tree attacked me. I had to fight back."

Spencer chuckled, shaking her head. She knew Ashley well enough to know she shouldn't prod. Instead, she raised the injured hand to her lips and placed a single kiss on torn knuckles. In that moment, Ashley felt a familiar spark, followed by a flutter in her mind. A joyous impulse. A spur of excitement. Words that weren't hers and yet belonged to her all the same began to string together to a nameless tune that had yet to be written. '_I wish you would notice me and take my hand. Why do we feel like strangers when the love we had used to be strong?'_

It had been a long time since the idea for a new song had struck. She held Spencer's hand just a little tighter, her smile never leaving her face. The squeeze was returned. Neither girl looked away from the fire's orange glow.

* * *

_Author's note: The periodic lyrics that will be popping up are a warped and perverted outline of the original. A first draft, if you will. I'll name the song later on in the chapter that it emerges in its finished form._


	8. Chapter Seven

_In response to ChasingCars' question, not enough. I'm planning on keeping the girls stuck for a while :)_

_I personally don't like this chapter. I don't think it flows as well as it should. Tell me what you guys think, and thank you all so much for your reviews!_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Ashley woke up the next morning with her arms wrapped around a certain blonde and her face buried in flaxen hair. Waking up like that had always made her smile, and that morning was no exception. She couldn't help it. It was reflex.

_This is how every morning should be, _she thought sleepily.

The previous night had passed without further incident. It had been dark by the time Ashley got the tent back up. Spencer had kept the fire going and heated a can of soup for their dinner. Both girls had been exhausted, whether from dealing with injury or running through the woods for the better part of the day, and had fallen asleep within minutes of closing their eyes.

Ashley resisted the urge to pull Spencer closer, forcing herself to scoot away instead. Standing up outside the tent, she groaned. Her legs were stiff, her back was sore, and she had a kink in her neck. Sleeping on the ground after a long day of walking was definitely not something she was enjoying. To top it off, she was already starting to miss her hot morning shower.

She looked at the stream in dread. The water was going to be freezing, but she really needed to wash up. She shivered as she stripped down, biting her tongue as she stepped into the cold brook. She washed her hair and cleansed her body as quickly as she could before practically jumping back onto the bank. With water still dripping down her dark tresses and tanned skin, Ashley went to her backpack to find a fresh set of clothes.

Spencer emerged from the tent. "Morning, Ash…" She trailed off seeing her friend's naked form.

"Morning, Spence." Ashley smirked as the blonde was obviously torn between gawking and looking away. _Oh yeah, still got it._ "See anything you like?" The other girl blushed and fixed her gaze on the ground._Since when is she shy around me?_ the brunette wondered. "Spence, don't worry. It's not like you haven't seen me naked before. Many times. So many times I have to question the sweet and innocent thing—"

"Yes, I remember," Spencer cut in before her ex could continue. "…vividly…"

Ashley heard the last part, even though the blonde had been muttering, and it made her grin. She rummaged through her bag again, pleased that she had remembered to pack a towel. She dried herself off while watching Spencer keep busy with starting up a fire, then slipped into her clothes. The blonde looked up at her friend when she finished.

"Was it cold?"

"Very." Ashley watched the girl shift with a strange nervousness. "You okay?"

"Um…do you think you could…?"

There as no need to finish voicing the request. "Of course."

Offering her hand, Ashley helped Spencer take her hoodie and jeans off, as well as her bandages. Her bra was removed next, and the blonde shuddered. Ashley silently wondered why her friend was so tense.

'_I think I made it rain in our perfect world. Please forgive me for causing you pain.'_

_Seriously, what's with the awkward?_ she asked herself once the strain of song lyrics faded._ We've seen each other naked plenty of… _The last article of clothing was shed, and both girls' breaths hitched as Ashley's fingers accidentally grazed the satiny skin of Spencer's thighs. _Oh. That's why. __**Damn**__. So beautiful... Okay, Davies, no big deal. It's nothing you've never seen before. Don't go ogling your ex when you're supposed to be helping her._

A feat much easier said than done. After rolling up the legs of her jeans, she helped ease Spencer into the shallow stream. The brunette waited patiently and with eyes politely (read: forcibly and reluctantly) averted until further assistance was required. Then, mindful of Spencer's shoulder, she washed the girl's hair, wishing they had packed their shampoo.

"There," Ashley announced with forced cheer. "Squeaky clean."

"Thanks, Ash," came the quiet reply.

Once back on the dry bank, Ashley retrieved Spencer's towel and gently massaged the wetness out of blonde locks. She then wrapped the towel around the girl's body from behind. Her arms lingered in the pseudo embrace a few dozen seconds longer than was probably appropriate, but Spencer didn't protest. In fact, she leaned back into Ashley just a fraction, warm breath tickling her bare shoulder. Neither said a word.

Inevitably, the moment ended, and the morning ritual progressed. Spencer's shoulder was re-bandaged, Ashley helped her into clean clothes, and the two sat brushing the moisture out of their hair in front of the fire while munching on a breakfast bar.

"So…I think I'm going to head downstream a ways to see what's around…" Ashley eventually put delicately.

She cringed a bit when Spencer sent her the very-unhappy-and-kind-of-disappointed look. Much like the look she received the night she tricked Spencer into meeting her at Chelsea's studio. _Thank god it's not her pissed-off glare. That thing can melt steel._ She shuddered internally, recalling the afternoon Aiden almost kissed her at school a few days before prom, avoided only when Ashley noticed Spencer nearby with that very look on her face.

"You knew I was going to," Ashley reminded. Still Spencer said nothing, rather dropping her gaze to the ground and nodding. "Come on, Spence, don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you Ash. I'm mad at the stupid tree that decided to impale me. Or maybe the plane that decided to die midair. Maybe both."

Ashley gave a small smile. "You can listen to my iPod if you want. The batteries haven't run out yet."

Spencer mumbled a thanks and watched her friend gather the same few items she took on her last walkabout.

"Need anything before I go?"

The blonde shook her head. "Just be careful."

"I will."

Placing a quick but tender kiss to her friend's cheek, the brunette took off, following the stream's flow.

* * *

It was after another three hours that Ashley decided she didn't like walking. She missed her car. Her beautiful black Porsche Carrera. Plush leather interior. Killer sound system. Smooth ride. That car was heaven on wheels. A physical extension of herself. Sleek. Curvy. Bold. Sexy. A total chick magnet.

And there she was,_walking_ through the wilderness, counting the trees beside her or the stones underfoot to make her excursion only slightly less boring. Or slightly more pathetic. Either one.

She curved around a bend in the stream and saw that the ground beyond opened up and ended. The water was picking up, churning more rigorously as it approached the drop-off. When Ashley reached that point, her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. The brook tumbled over a rocky outcropping and down three stories into a crystal blue lake. Rays of sunlight danced across the clear waters, sparkling brilliantly like liquid fire. Emerald trees of pine, aspen, and birch lined sandy banks set golden in the midday sun.

Maybe Canada wasn't so bad after all.

The cliff face started to slope down to the lake below about thirty feet to either side of the brook. Even then, it was more like climbing down large rocky steps. It would take walking another half mile out of her way to avoid the steep drop-offs, and Ashley was impatient. When she made it to the bottom, she looked up in awe at the gently cascading falls, then out at the mirror-like surface of the lake.

"Spencer totally needs to see this…"

'_I can't think clearly unless you're here with me. I need you, baby. Why don't you need me?'_

As she stared out across the lake, a soft wistful tune floated silently to her ears. The calm ripples of the shimmering water took on the sweet flowing melody. The innocently longing music box tones accentuating the melody manifested as the periodic tiny splashes of jumping fish. Ashley desperately wished for her guitar and keyboard. She had a feeling, though, that this newborn song would not fade from memory no matter how long they remained isolated from the world.

Reluctantly, she turned to head up to the stream and start the long walk back, but something caught her eye. On the far side of the waterfall, along a curve in the limestone ridge, there was an overhang jutting out. Beneath it was what looked to be an opening in the rock face. Wanting to see it closer, Ashley considered her options for getting over there. Either she'd have to climb up the wall, wade across the stream, and climb back down on the other side, or she'd have to swim. Detesting the idea of having to submerge in the cold water again, she opted for the climb. Lucky for her, she was in really good shape.

With her legs only wet up to her knees, she landed on the opposite bank within minutes. She wished she had one of the flashlights with her, but from what she could see, the crevice extended back through the rock wall, opening into a small oblong grotto. The rock ceiling was higher than she was tall. She couldn't tell how far the cave extended beyond the shadows, but its width was enough to easily accommodate a person lying down. Ashley ran her hand along the nearly smooth wall, pleased to find it dry. The cave floor was stone with only a thin layer of sand scattered across it and also untouched by the nearby waterfall.

She stepped back out into the sunlight, still awestruck by the breathtaking scene before her. Briefly, he mind drifted, picturing Spencer and herself basking on the sandy banks by the water's edge. This of course led to thoughts of other things they could do on the small strip of beach, which could then lead to skinny-dipping together to 'cool off' after their playful romp in the sand.

Ashley shook herself. A dip in the cold water would quickly become more necessary if she didn't stop that train of thought. With a grumble, where her frustration was of dubious origins, she scaled the cliff up to the top, crossed the stream, and began following its winding path back to the object of her fantasies.

The return walk wasn't as excruciating as she had been expecting. The sweet and quiet angst of the budding melody followed her steps like the sun high in the sky and the shadow beneath her feet. The light and the dark. The joy and the gloom. The smile and the tears. Ashley found herself humming the tune and enjoying the sound. It seemed fitting: softer than her usual style. Just like Spencer.

'_You gave me wings, made me fly. I need you, baby, but you let me fall. Now I feel so small.'_


	9. Chapter Eight

_Okay, so the first scene here is kind of a filler so that I could start getting the good stuff._

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

Spencer had been enthralled with Ashley's description of the lake and agreed it would be a good place to move their camp to. Two forms of fresh water. The falls for showers. A stronger shelter. Open sky to look for planes. They had waited until early the following morning, then once again packed up their gear. Ashley had reluctantly let Spencer carry her backpack and sleeping bag again while she took the same plus the tent on the first trip. On the trip back for the survival kit, Spencer had insisted on coming along, if only to keep her friend company. In the face of that masterful pout, Ashley couldn't say no.

In reality, the brunette was happy to have Spencer along. The three hour walk (one way) was tedious alone, but the two girls talked the entire way, making it seem much shorter. They talked about anything and everything that came to mind, just like they used to before things spiraled out of control.

When they reached the old camp site, Spencer wisely chose not to argue with Ashley when the brunette adamantly forbid her to help with the survival kit. Several breaks were taken on the final trip to the lake, giving Ashley a breather from lugging the heavy metal case. On one of these breaks, Spencer disappeared into the trees when Nature called, waving off Ashley's offer to help. When she returned to her friend's side, the blonde held up a small dark purple cluster.

"Here. Taste this."

Ashley scrunched up her nose. "What the hell is it?"

"It's a blackberry, silly."

Still skeptical, the brunette opened her mouth and let Spencer feed her the berry. She watched blue eyes flutter closed when she inadvertently closed her lips around the blonde's fingertip. To ward off the potential seriousness and awkwardness of the action, she let out an excessively dramatic and fake moan.

"Mmmmmm. Mmm Mmmmm."

To her relief, the blonde laughed. "Good, huh? There's a blackberry bush right back there. I thought we could take some along."

Ashley nodded. "Sure, go for it."

The blonde led her to the bush, and the brunette took out the hunting knife. She sliced off several branches with the clustered berries and handed them to Spencer to carry. The task done, they continued on their way. It was already getting dark by the time the girls made it back to the lake. They didn't even bother with dinner, but rather rolled out the sleeping bags in the cave and went to sleep exhausted.

* * *

As usual, Ashley woke up before Spencer. She found it odd; back home, she always slept in as late as she could before she had to go to school, while the blonde was the early riser. She supposed since Spencer's body was working to heal her shoulder, it tired her out more than the girl was admitting. 

Her stomach growled. She had barely eaten anything in twenty-four hours, and the twelve hours of walking did not help at all. Her muscles were unbelievably stiff, and the simple act of standing up proved more than difficult. Leaving the shelter, she did a series of stretches to loosen up her sore muscles. When her condition was more bearable, she rummaged through their food stash in search of breakfast. Cringing, she settled for one of the cereal bars.

Curiosity struck, and while she chewed, she took stock of the food items they had. She let out a discouraged puff of breath after doing the math in her head. If they ate three meals a day, their rations would last less than a week. So far they had yet to see or hear a single plane fly overhead, suggesting they would be stranded longer than another seven days.

"Where's a Taco Bell when you need one…?"

She rubbed her forehead. She had pulled them this far, but she was truthfully worried that her strength would soon give out. She poked through the rest of the supplies in hopes that some answers would jump up and wave, but none did. She rubbed her eyes between her thumb and index, pinching the bridge of her nose. She then smiled reflexively as a hand came to rest on her shoulder.

"Too early to be thinking?" the sweet voice teased.

"Yeah, something like that."

Spencer sat down next to her, pulling her sweatshirt closer around herself. "What's up?"

"Just trying to figure this whole thing out," Ashley replied, handing the blonde a granola bar.

Spencer nodded knowingly. "How long will it last?"

"A week. Maybe a little longer if we stretch it." Her friend was silent. "I'm just so…lost. I don't even no where to start with this."

"You already have started, Ash," Spencer reminded gently. "I mean, you got our stuff out of the plane, you played nurse to me, you got us to the stream and then here…You're doing great."

As the younger girl rubbed her back with the hand of her good arm, Ashley pulled the wrapped bundle of blackberries closer. She handed a single berry to Spencer, then popped one into her own mouth.

"You know, I think I'd go crazy if you weren't here, Spence."

"Yeah, you probably would," the blonde agreed with a grin. Her face softened. "I would, too."

Ashley leaned into Spencer and laid her head on the blonde's shoulder. They stayed like that, watching the sun climb above the line of trees across the lake. As the morning rays hit the water, the perfectly calm surface erupted with small splashes as fish flipped themselves into the air.

"It really is beautiful here," Spencer breathed.

Ashley smirked but didn't lift her head. "And here you were trying to drag me somewhere not romantic. Ha! Joke's on you, babe, 'cause when I'm around, there's _always_ a full dose of sexy."

Spencer playfully nudged her friend. "God, could you be any more full of yourself?"

Ashley sat up straight and thoughtfully stroked her chin. "Um, how about…Canada wasn't hot and sexy until I dropped in on it?"

"Ah yes, Ashley Davies, the Goddess of Desire come down from the heavens to grace this lowly realm with your hotness?" Spencer guessed.

"See? Now you're getting it."

Spencer groaned in aggravation, but her smile thwarted any play of seriousness behind it. Both girls settled back to gazing at the scenery. The blonde watched the jumping fish with new interest.

"You said there was fishing line in the survival kit, didn't you?" she wondered.

Although the randomness of the question caught Ashley off guard, she caught on quickly. Moving to the metal case, she dug through its contents until she found the plastic spool. Setting it aside, she continued her search for another item. It was several minutes before she gave up.

"What the hell kind of genius puts fishing line in a survival kit without any fishhooks?"

"It was probably some guy with a Harvard degree, or something."

"Yeah, or the ditzy piece of blonde ass he was sleeping with."

"Hey!"

"Oh. Sorry."

"You know I hate that stereotype," Spencer chided.

"You mean like just because of how I dress, it automatically makes me a slutty dyke?" Her friend gave her a pointed look. "Yeah, okay I am, but still. Anyway, you, Spencer Carlin, are exceptional."

"Why Ashley Davies, I'm flattered." The brunette grinned, then stared at the fishing line. Spencer did the same. "So…any ideas?"

"What about a suture needle?"

"Too small."

"A tent stake?"

"Too thick."

Ashley grinned evilly. "The underwire of your bra?"

"Too bendy." A beat. "Hey! Why mine?" The brunette just snickered with her devilish smirk firmly in place. Spencer glared. "Yeah, keep laughing, Davies. I hope it's still funny when you're in_ Hell_."

"Oh, it will be," Ashley assured without pause. "See, you'll be burning right there next to me. _Then_ Hell's going to be _really_ hot."

Spencer shook her head. The Davies girl was just shamelessly bad sometimes. Most times, really. It was part of her charm.

"Wood?" the older girl suggested.

"Maybe…We'd have to use two pieces and attach the ends together somehow." Ashley picked up the roll of duct tape, and Spencer laughed. "That might actually work. We make such a great team."

"Yeah," Ashley agreed with an infectious smile. "We do."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

"You're going to have to strip." Ashley raised a brow. "The wood, Ash. You'll have to strip _the wood_."

"Oh yeah, because that sounds _so_ much better."

"The bark! Strip the bark off. Jeez!"

On Spencer's suggestion, Ashley had taken the axe and hacked a branch off one of the occasional birch trees lining the lake. The blonde's explanation was that pine splintered too much. Two pieces roughly the width of a pencil were further separated, one that was two inches in length and the other half an inch shorter.

"Ah. Gotcha." Ashley faltered. "Um, how do I do that?"

"I don't know…" The younger girl shrugged her good shoulder. "Like a potato?"

"Are you somehow under the impression that helps me?"

With a grin, Spencer showed Ashley how to hold the knife at a shallow angle to the bark, pushing down the length of the stick. A thin strip of whitish bark was sliced away.

"You're a really good teacher, Spencer," Ashley cooed in a blatant impression of Cho from the fifth Harry Potter movie. The innocent schoolgirl persona was spot-on. "Maybe you could give me some _private_ lessons?" She topped it off with an obnoxiously flirtatious smile and wink.

"Um…I'm pretty sure that _was_ a private lesson," Spencer reminded while fighting off a chuckle. "Anyways, I always had a thing for Hermione."

"Who doesn't?"

The two traded grins, and Ashley continued peeling the bark from the stick she held. When the task was done on the second piece of wood as well, the brunette whittled a forty-five degree angle on one end of both pieces. The other end of the shorter stick was shaped to a point, and the wood was allowed to dry out next to the fire while the two ate lunch. Later on, the two angles were fitted together and fastened by a couple thin strips of duct tape. A notch was carved around the top off the longer stick, and a length of fishing line was tied and taped in place.

Spencer examined their work while Ashley looked on. "Beautiful."

"Yeah, you—it is," the brunette quickly corrected. It was hard to tell if the slip was intentional or not. Then again, Ashley clearing her throat with a certain degree of awkwardness hinted it was not. "So, are you a big expert on fishing?"

"I wouldn't say expert. Dad used to take us every summer when we were younger."

Ashley saw the saddened look cross Spencer's face and knew she was thinking about Clay. "Must've been fun."

"Yeah…it was…So, I take it you've never fished?"

"With _my_ family? Yeah right."

"Well, you're going to now."

The blonde missed the forced and uneasy smile accompanying Ashley's response. "Great."

"First, we need bait."

"Joy."

Spencer walked off into the trees, and Ashley less enthusiastically followed, watching her friend kick at the mossy undergrowth until she found what she was looking for. The blonde pointed down at a large rock that was half buried in the ground.

"Could you lift that up, please?"

Ashley knelt down and complied without much thought. As soon as she pried the stone up enough to see what was in the earth beneath it, the brunette abruptly dropped it with a bit of a yelp and stumbled back, falling on her rear.

"Oh, _ew_. _Hell_ no, I do _not_ do creepy crawlies."

Spencer gave her a patient look. "You want fish for dinner, don't you? Ash, just hold the thing up, and I'll grab a couple."

With a shudder, a groan, and an expression clearly displaying her revulsion, Ashley once again did as she was asked. "God, I am _so_ never letting you touch me again."

"Somehow, I strongly doubt that."

Ashley's disgust was momentarily forgotten when the remark registered. It was laced with naughty insinuation. Little Miss Sweet and Innocent was good at that. Caught up in her daydream, she didn't notice that Spencer had already finished and was starting back to camp.

"Ash, you coming?"

She quickly squashed the images invoked by _that_ little question and stood up. "Yeah."

Returning to the lake's edge, Spencer skewered one of the worms onto their fishhook. Ashley's nose scrunched up as she watched the creature continue to writhe.

"What now?"

"Throw it as far as you can," Spencer told her, handing the hook and line to her. "And don't let go of the line."

The hook was thrown, and it landed with a tiny _shloop _a good twenty feet out into the water. Spencer wrapped Ashley's end of the line around a thick branch several times to give her friend something to hold on to.

"Now we wait."

Five minutes passed before Ashley shifted.

"This is boring."

"This is dinner."

"It's taking too long."

"You have something better to do?"

"…maybe some_one_…" Ashley muttered to herself.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Suddenly, there was a violent tug, and Ashley pulled the line in on Spencer's instruction. The blonde gave her friend a one-armed hug as a medium sized fish was dragged from the water. With a curious—and somewhat wary—expression, the brunette held the line up and studied her catch. The creature suddenly jerked and started thrashing in the air, enough so that it brushed against its captor's arm. Dropping the fish to the ground, Ashley let out the most girly shriek Spencer ever heard, save for the time she put a rubber centipede on a sleeping Glen's pillow when they were younger. Casually, the blonde picked up the fish by the line before it flopped back into the water and sent Ashley a questioning look.

The brunette was turning red as she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Fish creep me out."

"You don't like fish?"

"Oh, eating them is fine. It's just when they're all alive and wriggling…" The brunette shuddered.

Spencer quirked a brow, trying hard to contain a grin. "Wow. I guess you learn something new every day."

Ashley glanced at the squirming fish with a still-guarded gaze. "So…what do we…_do_ with it?"

Spencer rolled her eyes and removed the hunting knife from its sheath on Ashley's belt. The fish was placed on the ground, and a quick chop took off its head. The brunette watched, thoroughly horrified and unable to look away.

"Oh, gross!"

"What would you prefer me to do? Bang it against a rock? Let it flop around while it suffocates?"

"This from the girl who screamed when she saw a _gopher_?"

Spencer turned bright red as she remembered that whole incident. Ashley moaned squeamishly and turned her head away, but not before her friend noticed the greenish tint overcoming her features.

"You okay, Ash?"

"…yeah, fine…" She stood up. "I think I'm gonna go sit over there."

Ashley walked over to sit in front of the fire, leaving Spencer to finish the task of catching dinner.

* * *

Another fish was eventually reeled in, and Spencer cleaned and gutted the two catches. It was a rather difficult chore considering the state of her shoulder, but for the first time since the crash, Ashley had neglected to offer a hand. The brunette instead kept her distance, gaze constantly focused elsewhere. The sound and smell of frying fish, however, inevitably won her attention. When she made her way over to the camp fire, Spencer handed her one of the forks and offered the pan to Ashley for her to take the first bite. 

"Oh sure, make me be the one to see if it tastes like crap," she grumbled jokingly.

Cutting a small corner off one of the fillets, the brunette blew on the fish meat to cool it a bit before putting it in her mouth.

"Well?"

Ashley nodded. "Light and crispy. Needs salt, though."

"Yes, well, if we had any…" Spencer took her own fork and cut off a bite for herself. "Hmph. Not bad."

"So, can I kiss the chef?"

Spencer seemed to consider it, giving a dramatic pause before a teasing, "No."

"Can I _grope_ the chef?"

"Ash!"

"What? Innocent question."

"Innocent, my butt."

"Hey, I'll take groping your butt."

"Ash! You're the devil."

"Your mom would know. It would certainly explain how easily I corrupted her 'perfect little angel.'"

"Who said you corrupted me?"

"True, because you know what they say: it's always the shy quiet ones."

"Are you calling me a slut?"

The older girl gave her most infuriating smirk. "Takes one to date one."

Spencer growled and pushed Ashley with her non-injured arm. The brunette playfully swatted back, and soon, the two girls were engaged in a light wrestling match. Ashley caught Spencer's good hand and held it fast.

"Hey, no fair! I only have one good arm!"

"I know," Ashley smirked gleefully. "I like winning."

With that, Ashley tackled Spencer to the ground—and 'tackle,' of course, meant the brunette gently pushed the blonde back, restraining her good hand while her other arm carefully ease her down without jarring the injured shoulder. Ashley gave an evil laugh and grinned victoriously until she noticed Spencer wasn't laughing with her. It was then she realized the compromising position they were in—faces inches apart, bodies pressed together in all the wrong (but sinfully right) places, heavy breathing, and darkened eyes.

Spencer nervously cleared her throat. "Yeah…"

"Yeah…" Ashley repeated in the same awkward tone. Still, she didn't move from on top of her former lover. The tips of their noses just barely touched.

"…Ash…" It was no more than a whisper.

The smaller girl on top dipped her head so that her nose brushed softly along the smooth skin of Spencer's cheek. She drew lazy patterns, breathing in the other's natural scent. Her bottom lip grazed the blonde's jawline.

"You know I trust you, right?" Spencer said suddenly, quietly.

Ashley lifted her head up enough to meet the blonde's gaze. Chocolate burned into sapphire with their intensity, the lust in their brown depths unquestionable. As the meaning of what Spencer had asked sunk in, Ashley dropped her gaze from the blonde's and closed her eyes.

"…yeah." Carefully, she rolled off her friend to lay on her back because that's exactly what Spencer trusted her to be: her _friend_. After a couple minutes of silently staring up at the sky, she turned her head to look at the girl next to her. "Spencer, I still…want to be _more_."

The blonde didn't take her eyes of the sky. "I know…"

Ashley knew she should have left it at that, but her emotions won out over reason. "Tell me you want me?"

"It has nothing to do with wanting you…"

Her voice cracked. "…Tell me you need me?"

The seconds crawled by. "…You know, that cloud kind of looks like a platypus."

Ashley felt a tear roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, disguising the motion as scratching an itch on her face. She looked back at the sky and found the cloud Spencer was referring to.

"Yeah, it does…Hey, that one kinda looks like Madison. See the big head and gigantic ass?"

Spencer laughed. "Ash, you're terrible!"

"Yeah, so is she."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ashley saw that Spencer was smiling.

'_Every night I pray I'll forget your smile, but every time I dream, I see you face haunting me.'_

If she had looked harder, she would have seen the force behind the happy smile and the tears behind blue eyes.

* * *

_Author's note: (Ducks away from angry Spashley fans throwing things) Alright, it was depressing there, I know. But it is Spashley, after all. It's not going to be that easy. I live for angst. It's my favorite genre._

_The gopher comment was a reference to the season two webisode "Roadside Attraction," which can be found on YouTube. It's one of the funniest, in my opinion. Ashley's line about wanting to be more is also from the webisode "Almost Hotness," which happens late in season three's first half. Check 'em out if you haven't seen them._


	11. Chapter Ten

_I love making people cry. It's like a goal in life, or something :) No seriously, though, I love all you guys. Your reviews are wonderful. Warm and fuzzy. Like bunny slippers. Yes, you guys are the warm fuzzy bunny slippers of my writing. _

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Three days had passed since the intimate moment—a week since the crash. Ashley had grown much quieter in that time, not to the point of coldness or animosity, but merely less vibrant than her usual self. Talks were still had, jokes were still made, and smiles were still shared, but the normally feisty brunette had definitely withdrawn. She kept busy with mindless tasks like collecting firewood and fashioning a second fishhook. The grotto was swept out and the floor lined with soft pine boughs in an attempt to make sleeping slightly more comfortable. Spencer's bandages were changed and finally removed to allow the wound circulation of fresh air.

Spencer, knowing it was best to give Ashley whatever space and quiet the brunette felt she needed, spent the time doing whatever work she could manage without hurting herself. Tending the fire. Cooking the fish Ashley had (reluctantly) caught for their nightly dinner. Washing their clothes and utensils. Laughing as Ashley teased her about being the 'dutiful housewife.' The brunette hadn't completely shut her out, which both surprised and pleased her.

When Ashley wasn't busy with other responsibilities, she sat by the fire, staring across the lake with a notebook open in front of her. It was her music composition book in which she confided her budding original melodies or lyrics. She always took it with her on trips away from home for the random moments when inspiration hit. In the back of her mind, she was thankful that Spencer knew her as well as she did: to know that she was very private about her music until it was ready to perform. Therefore, the blonde didn't pry.

The sun was unusually warm that first day of their second week, like the last breath of summer trying desperately to ward off the creeping autumn chill. Spencer practically begged Ashley to let her venture out into the woods surrounding their camp to see what kind of potentially edible vegetation was available. To say Ashley was hesitant was an understatement.

"Please?"

"Spence, I just don't want you to get hurt." The brunette sounded more than a little weary.

"I'll be close by, and I'll yell if I need you. Please? Don't make me pout."

"I don't understand why you won't let me come with you."

"Ash, you can't always be there for me." The older girl dropped her gaze as Spencer continued. "And _I_ can't stand being stuck here all the time. It's _boring_."

"…You promise you'll be careful?"

"You know I will be."

"...All right," Ashley relented.

Just when she thought Spencer was going to squeal like a little kid, the blonde instead kissed the top of her head with a whispered thank you. Ashley had a soft smile on her face while she watched her friend gather up the compass, hunting knife, and flare gun before wandering off.

About two hours later, Ashley, clad only in a pair of short shorts and her bikini top, lay on the sandy lake shore on her stomach and propped up on her elbows. Working on her tan, no doubt. Spencer had asked the brunette one day why she had packed such an outfit, considering they would be camping out in the forest. The older girl had merely shrugged in a 'Why not?' sort of way.

With her song notebook before her and pen in hand, her foot bobbed in the air behind her as she scribbled on the music staves. Perfect pitch was a talent inherited from her rock star father and so she had no troubles dictating the melody in her mind down onto paper. The lyrics were written below the notes, and Ashley sung quietly along as her pen worked.

"_Notice me. Take my hand.  
Why are we strangers when  
Our love is strong?  
Why carry on without me?_

_Every time I try to fly, I fall  
Without my wings, I feel so small.  
I guess I need you, baby.  
And every time I see you in my dreams,  
I see your face; it's haunting me.  
I guess I need you, baby."_

The musician at work was unaware of the pair of blue eyes watching her. She didn't know a pair of ears was straining to pick up her softly sung words. She was oblivious to the expression shadowing delicate features: a look of want and need; of sadness and desire; of lust and love.

"_I make believe that you are here.  
It's the only way I see clear.  
What have I done?  
You seem to move on easy._

_And every time I try to fly, I fall  
Without my wings, I feel so small.  
I guess I need you, baby.  
And every time I see you in my dreams,  
I see your face; you're haunting me.  
I guess I need you, baby._

_I may have made it rain.  
Please forgive me.  
My weakness caused you pain,  
And this song's my sorry."_

The singer had no idea that the lidded, darkened eyes and searing look fixed on her was the same expression aroused the day Ashley had divulged her 'first time with a girl' to the camera. Even if she noticed the look now, she wouldn't recognize it because she hadn't seen it back then. She was ignorant of the conflict behind blue orbs. The push and pull of too many thoughts and emotions. The constant warring of heart against mind.

"_At night I pray  
That soon your face will fade away._

_And every time I try to fly, I fall  
Without my wings, I feel so small.  
I guess I need you, baby.  
And every time I see you in my dreams,  
I see your face; you're haunting me.  
I guess I need you, baby."_

As the final note drifted away, Ashley felt a prickle at the back of her neck, like she was being watched. Only, it was more electrifying than creepy, which always told her it was Spencer. She twisted her body to glance over her shoulder, but the blonde was nowhere in sight. Her brows knit together in confusion for a brief moment before she turned back to her notebook. Tapping her pen on the paper, she stared at her work for another minute before setting the pen down and closing it inside the pages.

Pushing herself up so that she was sitting, she loosely drew her knees to her chest and looked out across the lake. Despite their success with the fishhooks, Ashley knew it wasn't enough. On the chance that they weren't found soon, she was forced to think long tern, something she rarely excelled at. The lake only held so much marine life, and two people plundering it on a daily basis would eventually take its toll, especially once their rations ran out.

Spencer surely wasn't oblivious to the fact. She was out at that precise moment looking for a source of usable plants. But Ashley knew they'd need more. She was no nature expert, and she certainly was no hunter, but they would have to turn to the area's wildlife. With that in mind, she opened the survival kit and pulled out the long thin case containing the disassembled hunting rifle. As she took the different sections of the firearm out, Spencer finally walked back into camp.

"Find anything interesting?" Ashley asked without looking up from her task.

The other girl sat down next to the brunette. "I saw a couple chipmunks."

"Really? I didn't hear you scream…"

"Hey!" Ashley snickered, even as Spencer smacked her on the arm. The blonde watched her friend as she assembled the hunting rifle. "Getting tired of me?" she teased.

"Never."

"Then what's with the rifle?"

"I just thought I'd put it together…you know…just because…" Ashley was a horrible liar when it came to the blonde.

"Going hunting?" Even as the words came out of her own mouth, Spencer's face slowly fell, her smile fading and her eyes clouding with new awareness. "They're…they're not going to find us…are they…?"

The understanding had been there. Both girls had known of the possibility. Ashley had resigned herself to it as fact days before. Unlike Spencer, she didn't have the luxury of hope. A girl with a twelve point five million dollar inheritance, and hope was the one thing she couldn't afford. Relying on a prayer, sinking into that false security would only spell their deaths. She could accept that. She had accepted the worst most of her life.

Spencer was different.

The blonde had grown up in the illusion of a perfect world. A world where everyone was safe and happy and any problems could be fixed with a hug and a smile. A world that had slowly begun to unravel for her in the past months, tearing at the threads of her soul, chipping away at the shell of her innocence piece by piece. And yet, even as the mirage continued to fade, she still clung to it, stubbornly and more desperately than before.

And it broke Ashley's heart. She wanted to shield the girl from it, protect her from the harsh light of day, preserve that innocence and bear the burden for her, even if for only a few moments longer. But reality was knocking, and she was helpless against it.

She set the rifle down and drew Spencer closer. A kiss was pressed to the taller girl's forehead and arms held her tightly. "I don't know the answer to that, Spence…but I told you I'd get us through this, and that's not a promise I intend on breaking."

* * *

_Author's note: You guys remember that look on Spencer's face during that scene in "First Time," right? The one where you can't tell if she's pissed off, turned on, or both? Yeah, that one. Anyway, that song was "Everytime." Yes, I used a Britney Spears song. Sue me :)_


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

"Ash, you can't shoot a _bunny_ with that thing."

"Why not?"

"Because it'd decimate the poor thing! With a cartridge that big, there'd be nothing left but a stain on the ground and splatter on the trees."

"Nice image there, Spence." Ashley lowered the hunting rifle from its perch against her shoulder. "Then what do you suggest we do? Throw rocks at it?"

"Hush."

"Lure it into the frying pan with fish bits?"

"You're not helping. Besides, rabbits don't eat meat."

"I would hardly call fish guts meat."

"Not the point. Do you even know how to use that thing?"

"Load the shells, turn off the safety, pull the trigger—"

Her statement was punctuated by the bang of a rifle shot. Ashley's muttered 'oops' was drowned out by Spencer's scream.

"JESUS CHRIST!"

"Spencer Carlin!" Ashley shouted incredulously.

The blonde fought to control her breathing. "What?"

"Language, please."

"Eat shit and die, Davies," Spencer growled, though a grin was clearly trying to make itself known. "What the hell was that?"

The brunette giggled—yes, that's right, giggled—at her friend's uncensored outburst. For some reason, she found it hilarious coming from normally soft-spoken blonde. When she regained her composure, aided greatly by Spencer's glare, she shrugged innocently.

"Butterfingers?"

Spencer groaned and wiggled a finger in her ear. "I think I just went deaf."

"Sorry. Didn't think the trigger would be that sensitive." She clicked the safety back on. "Damn."

"What?"

"Looks like the bunny scampered."

"I don't blame it."

Ashley released a heavy sigh. "This isn't working. I need something bigger to aim at."

"Or something smaller to shoot with."

The brunette held up a finger. "Wait…I might be having a thought."

"Only one?"

"Shut up."

Spencer quirked a skeptical brow. "Does it involve either one of us naked?"

Ashley hesitated. "…Well, _now_ it does," she whined, and the blonde snickered. "_God_. No seriously, though, I'm getting an idea. I need to think about it…"

"Going back to camp?"

"Yeah."

"Do you mind if I stay out a little longer? I want to pick up some of the stuff I found yesterday now that I have a bag with me."

Ashley waved her hand vaguely. "Yeah, whatever. Go for it."

Noticing how distracted her friend was, Spencer couldn't help but tease her. "So…I'll see you later, then…?"

"Uh huh."

"And you'll help me make dinner?"

"Yep."

"And maybe we can go skinny-dipping in the lake?"

"Yeah, sure." A beat. "Wait, what? Are you serious?"

The blonde laughed. "No. I was just making sure you were paying attention."

"You're evil."

"I learn from you."

"Paula would be so proud." Spencer snorted, and both girls cracked up in laughter. Ashley turned to head back to camp. "All right, then I guess be careful, and we'll see about that skinny-dipping."

"In your dreams, Davies."

"Every night, Carlin," Ashley called over her shoulder.

* * *

Ashley returned to camp and set the rifle down, trading it for the hand axe. She walked along the trees lining the lake until she came to a pine with branches low enough for her to easily reach. With quick precise chops, she cut a bough, trimmed off the superfluous branches, and shorted it to about three feet. Carrying it back to camp, she took a seat in front of the fire and began to slice the bark off the wood with the edge of the axe. The strips of bark were fed to the fire, making it hiss and spit from the sap.

"Snap, crackle, pop," Ashley murmured as she worked.

When the wood was bare, she took both ends in her hands and bent the bough with increasing pressure. The roughly one-half inch diameter wood bowed only so far before it splintered and snapped, and Ashley dropped the broken piece to the ground in disappointment. With the axe in hand again, she went in search of a new sampling. This time, she cut the same length of branch of both birch and aspen. Returning to the fire, she repeated the stripping process on both boughs. In the back of her mind, she noticed a periodic stiff wind had picked up.

Taking the birch branch, she applied the same pressure to it. The wood had even less give than the pine and snapped cleanly in two. Further disgruntled, she tried on the third branch. To her pleasant surprise, the aspen bowed but didn't splinter, and when one end was released, the wood sprang back straight. Ashley bent the branch several more times, stressing it more than would probably be necessary to ensure its durability.

Satisfied, she carved notches at both ends, then got up to dig through the survival kit. She pulled out the spool of fishing line and cut a piece more than double the length of the aspen branch. Folding the line in two, she looped one end around one of the grooves in the wood she had cut and tied it tightly. A strip of trusty duct tape was wrapped around to secure it. The next part was trickier, as Ashley soon found out.

She had to bend the wood to what she guessed was an appropriate curve while at the same time pulling the fishing line taught and tying it around the opposite end. On her first attempt, the line was too loose, and the branch returned to its straight stance. Her second attempt ended when she accidentally let go of the branch and it snapped up into her face. It was accompanied by a long string of curses as her hand rubbed the stinging from her skin. Her third attempt failed when the knot she tied slipped undone, and she had to clench her fists in her own hair to keep from throwing things.

Taking several deep breaths and counting to ten, she tried again. She dug the already tied end into the ground, bent the wood with one hand, and wrapped the line around the notch a good five times with the other hand. Hesitantly letting go of the wood, she used both hands to tie the plastic string into a tight knot and spitefully covered it with duct tape (as though the tape was actually the defining factor of success or failure). Nevertheless, it held.

Picking up her creation, Ashley wrapped her hand around the middle of the wood and hooked a single finger from her other hand around the fishing line. She plucked it gently. It answered with a soft _twang_. Almost reverently, she plucked the line back a little farther and released. The line snapped back into place, wavering with the vibrations. More confident, Ashley drew her two hands apart, pulling back on the line until her fist nearly met her chin. Letting go, the string _twanged_ quickly and powerfully.

The bow was so far a success.

A loud rumbling caused her to look up, her eyes instinctively searching for an aircraft flying overhead. Quite suddenly, Ashley noticed the sky had darkened considerably. Odd, considering it was still too early for sunset, as much she could guess. Then, she saw the black clouds crawling by, bright flashes flaring up in their depths and the rumbling soon following. The wind began to blow harder, making the trees sway against its force.

Working quickly, Ashley set her creation inside the shelter, along with whatever other possessions happened to be laying outside. She dragged the survival kit inside, as well. When she stepped back out into the strengthening winds, she realized with cold terror that Spencer had yet to return. She somehow maintained the presence of mind to grab a flashlight before she tore off into the woods, shouting at the top of her lungs.

"SPENCER!"

The first drop landed on her nose. A second hit her shoulder. Then, as abruptly as if God Himself opened the floodgates, the rains cascaded down in thick sheets. Lightning streaked the sky. Thunder shook the earth. Hair clung to her face and her clothes stuck to her skin, both soaked from the downpour.

"SPENCER!"

She slipped on the wet foliage under her feet but caught herself before she fell. She wiped the dripping hair out of her eyes and called again.

"Ash?"

"Spencer!"

The blonde came into the sight through the dim, and Ashley felt a surge of relief. The younger girl was drenched (obviously), backpack in hand and shaking from the cold. Ashley took her hand and they hurried back to their shelter. A crack of thunder sounding directly overhead made both girls flinch, Spencer's hand tightening around the brunette's. They ran back into camp, and Ashley ushered her friend into the grotto. As the fire was thoroughly drowned, a flashlight was turned on to illuminate the dark space.

"You okay, Spence?"

"Cold." Indeed, the blonde's teeth were chattering, and she had her arms wrapped around herself in vain attempt to keep warm. "And my shoulder's burning."

"I'm sure a wet clingy shirt doesn't feel too good on it. We gotta get these clothes off you before you freeze."

Spencer sent her a sideways glance. "You'll use any excuse to get us both naked, won't you?"

"Absolutely," Ashley deadpanned. She was only half joking. "Now, come on. Strip."

Ashley peeled her own clothes off without further delay and moved to help Spencer with hers. The two climbed into the sleeping bag, and the brunette turned off the flashlight. Frequent flashes of lightning lit up the grotto as well as the stormy scene outside. The wind howled, and the thunder reverberated through the rock walls.

Ashley slipped an arm around a still shivering Spencer and pressed herself up against the larger girl's back. She pretended not to notice the blonde's breath hitch, or the pounding of her own heart, which she was certain Spencer could feel. It matched the pounding of the rain outside. Both lay quietly, listening to the sounds of the storm. Unconsciously, Ashley's hand rubbed gentle circles across Spencer's stomach.

When the blonde's shaking lessened, Ashley nuzzled up to her ear. "You warmer now?"

She felt the girl nod, and the brunette relaxed her embrace without actually letting go. Through the darkness and with her friend turned away, Ashley couldn't see the content smile on Spencer's face.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve**

"Ash?"

Grunt.

"Ashley?"

Groan.

"Ash, wake up."

"Mmm, naked Spencer…"

"Ashley!"

"Wha?"

The brunette snapped awake, blinking rapidly to get her vision to focus. Looking down, she found blue eyes staring up at her. As the sleepy haze began to lift, Ashley realized she was laying almost entirely on top of Spencer. Most notably, her thigh rested between the blonde's and pressed against a very interesting area.

Not to mention they were still very much nude.

Ashley gave a sheepish grin. "Sorry." The trademark Davies smirk broke through. "Wait, you mean this isn't your dream come true?"

"No," Spencer claimed, amusement plainly coloring her tone. "Get off."

"Is that an invitation, or—"

"Now, Ashley."

Smile still in place, the brunette extricated herself from the blonde, careful to not push into Spencer the wrong (read: right) way. With a deep cat stretch, she pushed herself up and located a dry set of clothes to put on. Once dressed, she grabbed yesterday's creation and plopped right back down next to Spencer.

"My project before the storm hit." She gave the bowstring a tug.

"Hey, this is great!"

"I'm going to try making the arrows today."

"Wow, Ash, you're going all huntress."

"Hot, isn't it?"

"A little bit."

Spencer crawled out of the sleeping bag, and Ashley handed her a dry set of clothes. Once the blonde was dressed, the brunette poked inside the still-damp backpack Spencer had with her the night before.

"Did you get what you went out for yesterday?"

"Yeah. There's a stand of cattails a ways down the lake. I also found some chickweed and wild onions."

"_Yum_," Ashley drawled sarcastically.

Spencer smacked her on the arm. "Shut up. It's the only stuff I know isn't poisonous. We can eat pretty much any part of the cattail, the chickweed can be made into a poor-man's salad, and we can make soup with the onions."

"And you're going all gatherer…ess. Did you dad teach you this stuff?"

"He's a chef," Spencer shrugged. "On our fishing trips, he liked to make us try some things that weren't bought in a store. Something about the 'true Nature experience.'" She laughed. "Glen always used to ask why we couldn't just go to Burger King instead."

Ashley watched her friend's look of happy nostalgia slip away. She plastered on her own grin. "Well, then you'll just have to show me what you can do."

The smile was returned, but only half-heartedly. "Doesn't look like I have much choice."

* * *

The sun was just starting to rise as they stepped outside. Both shivered immediately, and Spencer ducked back inside for their sweatshirts. 

"Jesus, it's cold," Ashley hissed, a small puff of breath billowing up in front of her face. She turned to the woodpile stacked up right outside the shelter entrance, and her shoulders slumped. "Um…crap."

"What?" Spencer asked, coming back out and handing her friend her hoodie.

"We should probably start keeping the firewood _inside_ the grotto."

"…Oh."

The brunette poked through the wood supply. "This is too wet."

"Which means everything else is, too."

"Yeah."

"Crap."

"Exactly." Ashley ran a hand through her hair. "I'll see if I can find anything dry, but…"

Spencer stayed inside the shelter to keep warm while Ashley spent an hour and a half trudging through the sopping undergrowth of the forest. She poked through the brush, kicked through moss and foliage, and glanced up at the still-dripping trees. Cold, wet, and hungry, she gave up and walked back to camp empty-handed.

Spencer came out of the grotto holding a fire starter and lighter. "Anything?"

"It's all soaked." Ashley gestured to the synthetic log the blonde held. "Light 'er up."

The fire was small, and it wouldn't last long, but it was enough to warm up a can of soup for breakfast. They had eaten the last of the cereal bars the day before, and they only had a couple days of rations left. Now they were down to four fire starters, as well. Ashley was discouraged to say the least.

Their firewood was set out on the beach, and their wet clothes were hung on the rocky wall for the sun to dry. After taking a quick look at Spencer's shoulder—which appeared to be on the track of healing—Ashley started the task of making arrows for her bow. As birch had proven to be the hardest wood available, she decided to work with that.

Spencer watched from the ground as the brunette managed to crawl her way up into the lower reaches of a large birch on the lakefront. Balancing her full weight on a thick limb, she unhooked the axe from her belt and began hacking away at several of the more extensive branches, letting them fall to the base of the tree. After carefully dismounting from her perch, she and Spencer dragged the boughs to their camp and the fast dwindling fire. In a last ditch effort, Spencer threw a few small pieces of still-damp timber from the woodpile on. The flame smoked and sputtered and ultimately gave out; the moisture from the storm was simply too much. A cold dinner it would be.

Ashley harvested the straightest periphery branches of roughly the same diameter as the bow. Once she had a nice stack of nearly two dozen, she cut them down to a length of about two and a half feet. Then came the tedious chore of stripping each one of its bark sheath for the smoothest shaft possible. With the large number, Spencer took up the hunting knife and offered her help. Ashley accepted on the condition that she promise to stop the second the work started affecting her shoulder.

The girls forewent lunch for several reasons that day, of which neither wished to openly admit. With no fire, they didn't bother with fish, and neither felt like eating cold soup or freeze-dried beef that was more dry than anything. True to her word, Spencer gave up her task with throbbing shoulder, leaving Ashley to sharpen each of the twenty shafts to a point and notch each end to fit into the bowstring. At one point, Spencer provided her with a helping of thoroughly-washed chopped up cattail shoots.

"Tastes like the lovechild of celery and cucumber."

"There are worst things it could taste like, Ash."

"You know, it'd be golden if we had some ranch dressing…"

"Well, I don't know about ranch, but I'm pretty sure I have some hand lotion in my bag…" Spencer mentioned offered with a smirk.

Ashley's nose scrunched up. "No thanks. I'm good." As she chewed the dinner worthy of an overzealous vegan tree-hugging recluse (since nobody in their right mind would want to associate with those crazy vegans—Ashley's words), the brunette stared at her pile of pointy sticks. "What am I forgetting?"

"What?"

"It feels like there's something missing."

Spencer thought for a moment. "…The wings."

Ashley snapped her fingers. "Yes. Right."

"What would you do without me?"

"Live the rock star life of parties, booze, and women on top of women." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Literally."

Spencer wasn't phased. "Really. So, would they be standing on each other's shoulders or stacked flat like pancakes?"

Ashley closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sky with a dreamy expression. "Mmm, women pancakes…buttered…and syrupy."

"That's…a colorful image."

"Mmmm."

"You do realize that would never happen, right?"

"I'm Ashley Davies. I have twelve million dollars. I could make it happen."

"Twelve point five, and you wouldn't."

"Really. And why's that?"

"Because you're not that person anymore."

A lazy smile. "All the more reason for me to milk the moment."

Rolling eyes. "Way to sound like Aiden."

Brown eyes snapped open in horror. "Oh god, I think my IQ just dropped ten points."

A brow inched upwards. "Only ten?"

"You're right. That's giving him too much credit. Sometimes I swear that boy's head is filled with sawdust." Spencer was chuckling and nodding, but it had taken a more brooding edge. _Damnit, no more Aiden-talk. Too early. Still too early. Bad Ashley. Bad. Change the subject._ "I've always wondered what Madison's head is filled with…"

"I think we can pretty much guarantee it's not lithium."

"Yeah, I wish. I bet it'd make her that much more bearable."

The two shared a look, then both said, "Or not," before they broke out into laughter.

_Damn, I've missed this. This is how used to be and how it always should be. No, don't say it, Davies. Not now._ Strangely enough, Spencer must have been reading Ashley's mind.

"It's never going to be the same, is it? I mean, close, but not really." The brunette didn't trust her voice, so she didn't respond. "Hey, do you remember those 'Choose Your Own Adventure' books?" Ashley quirked a smile in acknowledgment. "You know, if you didn't like the way that one story was going, you could just go back and choose another story?"

The words were out of Ashley's mouth before she could stop them. "So let's back up and choose another story."

"But it doesn't really work like that, does it? It can't. Things never move backwards. They just move forward from the choices we make."

"Then, let's move _forward_ and choose another story."

Spencer tilted her head with a curious look. "We are."

She made it sound so simple. So plain. So real. For Ashley, it was none of those things._ But what if it's not the story I want?_

Spencer stood and turned towards the lake. "You know what I just realized? We've been here almost a week, and I haven't actually stopped to watch the sunset before."

Ashley followed her gaze. Sure enough, the sky had lost its cerulean hues. The day had passed quickly, and she had barely noticed, "Hey, yeah. I guess we've been busy staying alive."

The blonde caught the look in her friend's eyes and held up a warning finger. "Don't."

Ashley clenched her jaw shut, but she only lasted a few seconds before she leapt to her feet and her husky voice started belting out the inevitable Bee Gees song across the lake.

"_Whether you're a brother, or whether you're a mother,  
you're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.  
Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin',  
And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive."_

"Ash…"

"_Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive.  
Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' aliiiii—"_

Spencer clamped a hand over the singer's mouth, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Ash, shut up and watch the sunset."

When the blonde removed her hand, the two shared a smile. "Yes, Miss Carlin."

The sky was alight with a blaze of rust melting into crimson, crimson bleeding into violet, and violet casting shadows over the emerald tree line. The fiery spectrum glinted across the lake surface, gradually fading as the black of night swathed the land, and the blanket of starlight etched the sky.

Spencer shivered. Without thinking, Ashley stepped up behind her and wrapped her arms around her, resting her chin on the taller girl's good shoulder. There was no flinch, so sudden tensing, no hitched breath to tell her to let go, and she vowed that the day would come when she wouldn't have to.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_Well, I'm glad I'm still making you guys laugh and cry and squeal and beg for more. Don't worry, you'll be happy. Eventually :)  
_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

She felt cold. It was an unusual occurrence. No matter what the temperature outside the shelter, she had always slept feeling warm and comfortable. Safe. But not this morning. This morning, even in her still-sleeping mind, she could feel the empty space beside her, the missing body and the warmth that used to inhabit it.

Slowly, consciousness replaced unconsciousness, and she blinked her eyes open. Her sleep-ridden suspicions were right: aside from herself, the sleeping bag was otherwise unoccupied. She lifted her head, trying to coax her vision into focus.

"Spencer?"

Silence.

Crawling out from under the too-cold embrace of the makeshift bed, she stepped out into the equally cold air of daybreak. A quick sweep of the area, and her eyes landed on what they sought, her breath involuntarily catching in her throat. Spencer stood waist deep in sparkling water as the falls tumbled gently down over her nude body.

Ashley quietly cleared her throat. Anyone who looked closely could see the tint of red on her cheeks. Likewise, anyone who mentioned that fact would quickly find themselves with a swift knee to the stomach. Ashley Davies does not blush. Nor can she be overwhelmed by the female form. And she definitely does not acknowledge the absolute breathtaking beauty of Spencer Carlin naked under the clear cascade, beads of water running torrents down golden locks and smooth curves as she finally stepped up onto the dry bank, milky skin dripping and glistening invitingly in the rising sun.

Nope, not affected at all.

When Spencer looked up from wringing the moisture out of her hair, she found her towel being offered to her. How Ashley managed to present an air of indifference is one of the great mysteries of the world.

"You're up early," the brunette noted when Spencer accepted the towel from her.

"Couldn't sleep."

"How's the shoulder?"

"After freezing water pounded down on it? Burning." Ashley handed Spencer her clothes once she had dried herself off. "Breakfast?"

"Yeah. I'm going to grab a quick shower first, though." _A cold one, please._

"All right. I'll get something started."

While Ashley grabbed her own towel, Spencer gathered up some of the now dried wood from the beach and carried an armload back to the fire pit. A second trip was made for a handful of brush. She then made the mistake of looking up in the waterfall's direction.

Spencer quietly cleared her throat. Anyone standing within twenty yards of the blonde could see the fierce red splashed across her cheeks. Likewise, anyone who mentioned it would quickly find themselves on the business end of a not very intimidating glare. Because lets face it: Spencer Carlin cannot pull off a respectable glare when distracted by an undressing Ashley Davies. Nor can she ignore the overwhelming flare of lust spurred by glimpsing that spectacular female form. And she definitely acknowledges the absolute breathtaking beauty of Ashley Davies in all her divine splendor under the clear cascade, beads of water running torrents down dark curls and perfect curves as she all too soon stepped up onto the dry bank, bronzed skin dripping and glistening tantalizingly in the rising sun.

Cold shower, anyone? Wait, been there, done that.

Ashley toweled herself off and slipped back into her clothes. It was around that moment when Spencer realized she had yet to actually light the wood before her. Flushing a new shade of red all over again at her lusty diversion, she quickly snapped the lighter on and set fire to the brush.

Ashley swaggered over, continuing to run her hair through the towel. "Enjoy the show?"

"Did you?" Spencer easily countered.

"Do you really want me to answer that? Or should I show you?"

"Should I even dignify that with a response?"

"A decent eye rolling might do it."

Spencer squinted up at her friend. "Not worth the effort."

Ashley chuckled. "You certainly recover fast."

"That's because I don't think with my crotch, unlike _some_ creatures."

"Are you implying that I'm one of those creatures?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Spencer mocked.

Ashley grinned. "Touché."

Indeed, Spencer had recovered from her fluster quickly, and as always, Ashley was pleasantly impressed by Spencer's ability to match her verbal sparring blow for blow. The brunette could count the number of people that could admirably keep up with her banter on one hand, and incidentally enough, all were female. Those select few had earned a certain form of respect from the Davies girl, even if she wouldn't admit it to anyone else.

* * *

"So, let me make sure I understand our dilemma." 

"Okay."

"The arrows need wings to balance them when they fly. Without them, it'd be next to impossible to hit anything more than two feet away. And, the general material of choice is feathers. Am I right so far?"

"Yes."

"All right, so in order to harvest said feathers, we need to bring down a bird, but in order to bring down said bird, we need arrows that fly."

"Yep."

"So basically, life hates us, and we're screwed."

"Basically." Ashley frowned, causing Spencer to smile. "We're not screwed, Ash."

"You just said we were!"

"Yeah, but you're so cute when you're frustrated."

"I am not _cute_. Ashley Davies does not do _cute_. She does hot and, and sexy and smokin'...saucy, suave, sultry, and naughty, but she does _not_ do _cute_," she insisted, ticking the adjectives off on her fingers for emphasis.

"You're adorable."

"Stop it."

"Like a little fuzzy puppy."

"Shut—Really? Does that mean I can sit in your lap and you'll rub my belly?"

Spencer rolled her eyes. "So, we'll have to find something that can substitute for feathers for now."

Ashley shrugged. "Notebook paper."

"Definitely."

In a relatively short time, three of their arrows had been outfitted with a trio of paper flaps—doubled for stability, cut into long triangles, and duct taped to the shafts. Eager to try it out, Ashley grabbed the bow, notched an arrow onto the middle of the bowstring, aimed down the length of the beach, drew back, and released. The arrow launched forward from the snap of the string in a perfect arc and sailed a good ten yards before skidding across the sand to a halt.

"Holy—"

Spencer excitedly hugged Ashley from behind and gave her a firm kiss on the cheek. "Ash, you're a genius!"

"I didn't even pull back as far as I could have, and that sucker _flew_."

Another arrow was notched, and Ashley drew the bowstring back to its greatest tension. Almost faster than they could follow with their eyes, the projectile arced a distance nearly double its previous flight. Both girls grinned.

"Now you just need to be able to hit something." _Smack_. "Hey! Not me."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Uh huh."

"I say we go try this baby out."

* * *

After an hour of walking deep into the woods, the girls spotted their first target about eight yards away. A rabbit sat amongst the trees chewing happily on a cluster of wildflowers. 

"Aw…" the blonde whined.

"Hey, do you want meat or not?"

Spencer sighed. "Yeah…I know…" She steeled herself. "Just remember the laws of physics."

"Was I awake in physics?"

"Probably not."

"Okay. Just checking."

"How about it's like throwing a football?"

"Do I look like the sports type to you?"

"All right, fine. Then picture what you'd have to do to get a woman to arch her back a certain way."

"Spencer Carlin, you slut."

"Hey, whatever helps you get the idea."

"You have a dirty mind."

"So do you, so it works out."

"Very true."

"Wait…didn't you somehow pass physics with flying colors?"

"…maybe..."

"You bitch."

"You know, I'm starting to think I'm a bad influence on you."

"Just shoot the damn rabbit, Ash."

Spencer handed Ashley an arrow, and the brunette clipped it onto the string. With a smirk, Ashley crept closer to the unsuspecting creature, avoiding stepping on the not so proverbial twig. One step too far, and the rabbit shifted suddenly, staring in her direction. She froze her movements. The rabbit hopped a couple feet away, then settled down and began gnawing on the greenery again. Ashley raised the bow and pulled the string back, taking aim. She breathed deeply, held it, and released. The arrow sailed a straight path. And by straight, we mean straight into the ground six feet in front of its target. Startled, the creature darted away. Ashley blew her breath out in a gust of disappointment and swore not quite under her breath.

Spencer stepped up beside her. "Well, that was anticlimactic." The brunette said nothing. "I think you forgot the arc."

"…stupid physics."

"You have to point above the target."

"I know." Ashley sighed. " I blame you. I was distracted by the image of sex you put in my head."

"Ah, I see. But hey, your aim was right in line…"

"I guess that's something."

The arrow was retrieved, and another half hour was spent searching for a new target. A second rabbit (or perhaps the same one?) was located, and the motions were repeated. This time, the arrow flew several feet over the rabbit's head and glanced off the tree standing behind it. Again, the bunny ran off.

"Son of a…How does Legolas make it look so damn easy?"

Spencer shrugged. "He's an elf. Magical. And kinda hot."

"Do _not_ say Orlando Bloom is hot." The blonde bit her lip. "_Oh my god."_ Ashley threw up her hands and practically stormed off to pick up her arrow. "You're, like, the worst lesbian ever."

Spencer gave her a pointed look, and the brunette quickly dropped _that_ subject. As they continued on, curving around to start back towards camp, Ashley pushed her way through a leafy thicket and both girls yelped in surprise when a large brownish gray blur flew up in front of them and flapped away.

"Christ, what the hell was that!?"

Spencer rubbed Ashley's arm to calm her down, breathing deeply to try to slow her own pounding heart. "I think…it might have been a quail or something."

"What the fuck is a quail!?" the brunette nearly shrieked, adrenaline still pumping through her veins.

"Pheasant?"

"Oh, right. Big chicken, small turkey? Sorry, mind not really working after that."

"Yeah, that scared the crap out of me."

"No kidding. You okay?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I don't like nature. I think it's trying to kill us." She received a withering glance. "Bad joke. Sorry."

After a third opportunity (and third failure), they reached camp late in the afternoon. The rest of the daylight hours were spent at the lake's edge, but to make the day worse, the fish were not biting. With rations ever dwindling, Spencer filled their pot up with water from the falls and boiled it over the fire, throwing in some of the wild onions and stalks of cattails.

The sun had set, leaving Spencer and Ashley sitting in the flickering glow of the fire. The pan sat between them, and they ate their soup in silence. It was only after they had finished eating that Ashley spoke.

"Well, thank god you've managed to cook something edible because otherwise, I'm pretty sure we'd be eating bark off the trees." The blonde managed half a smile. Only half. Ashley reached over and stroked her friend's back as they stared into the flame. "We'll be okay, Spence."

"I hope you're right."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_Just a note, there will be mention of blood and guts in this chapter. It's not graphic or anything, but if you're easily squeamish, be forewarned._

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

Sleep had been restless. Ashley had tossed and turned half the night until an arm hooked around her waist. Only then did her fidgeting cease and her mind settle enough to drift off. Despite the calming effect of Spencer's embrace, the brunette awoke before the sun rose and couldn't lay still any longer. Prying herself out of bed, she dressed and stepped outside. The blonde soon followed.

The morning was quiet; neither girl spoke much. With a soft word, Spencer walked off on a quick errand, leaving Ashley sitting on the lake shore, fishing line in hand. It was cold, and she held her sweatshirt close around her body, her face partially buried under the zippered collar.

Half an hour passed. She was startled when a one of their plastic bottles appeared in front of her, a wispy column of steam rising from the greenish liquid inside. She took the bottle wordlessly and sipped the hot substance, grimacing slightly at the odd taste. She sent a questioning glance to the blonde next to her.

"Blackberry leaf tea," was the simple response.

Ashley nodded in acknowledgment. The two passed the bottle back and forth, the hot drink keeping them warm. They nibbled on the few handfuls of blackberries that Spencer had picked while she was out. Eventually, the blonde left Ashley's side and returned to the fire.

Another hour passed. Not one bite. Not even a quiver.

Ashley rubbed her face with her hand. Pulling in the line, she stood and walked back to the camp where Spencer was already putting two foil-wrapped packs on the cooking rack. The last two freeze-dried meals, leaving a single can of soup left. They ate in silence. Even after they had finished breakfast, they sat unmoving, staring into the warmth of the fire.

Finally, with a huff of rejuvenated air, Ashley glanced at Spencer. When the blonde met her gaze, the brunette cracked a smile much like she had on the plane before the crash. And much like on the plane, Spencer smiled back, briefly, painfully. But, unlike before, Ashley leaned over to give a gentle kiss to her friend's cheek and a whisper in her ear.

"Come on. Let's go."

Spencer's pained smile brightened faintly. Ashley stood and doused the fire with sand. She clipped the hunting knife to her belt, slung her bow over her shoulder, and picked up her flighted arrows. She shouldered the rifle as well—might as well be prepared. She then offered her free hand to Spencer. The blonde looked up into brown eyes for several moments before letting herself be pulled to her feet.

They ventured into the woods.

"You know what I miss?" Ashley said suddenly.

Spencer glanced at her. "What?"

"Tacos."

The blonde laughed, hard and genuine. Catching her breath, she nodded. "Chicken strips."

"Cheetos."

"Chocolate."

"Liquor."

"Ew."

"Mmm. Morgan, Jim, Jack, Johnnie, and Jose. They're my boys."

Spencer chuckled, and another hush fell over them. This one, however, was more comfortable. More normal. The fish may not have been biting, but the rabbits were out in force. There seemed to be one of the gray fuzzy creatures at every turn. Still, five missed shots in one hour later, Ashley was frustrated as she stared at her sixth target. She grit her teeth and clutched the bow in her hand tightly.

"What if I just close my eyes, point, and shoot?"

"Ash, I don't think—" The arrow as released, and Spencer cringed as a wet_thud_ followed. Her eyes widened. "Um…"

"What?" Ashley opened her eyes. "No fucking way!"

The rabbit lay still, the arrow imbedded deep in its chest.

Spencer turned to her friend in disbelief. "What the hell was that?"

Ashley shrugged. "Mad skills?" At the blonde's narrowed gaze, she corrected herself. "Frickin' lucky shot."

"I think it's official that you're certifiably crazy."

"More like certifiably _awesome_."

Spencer rolled her eyes as Ashley retrieved her kill. Notably, the blonde kept her eyes averted from the limp rabbit in her friend's hand as they started back. A couple more shots were taken, but both missed.

When they reached camp, the two climbed up the rock wall to the streamside. The rocky banks there had become the designated cleaning site for their catches to keep the blood and guts off their living area. Ashley set the rabbit down on the flat surface of a large rock and drew the hunting knife from its sheath. Without a moment's hesitation, she slipped the blade tip through the abdominal wall, slicing the fur and muscle all the way up to the chin, skimming over the rib cage. Intestines spilled out onto the rock and blood oozed out.

Spencer groaned.

Ashley glanced up at her paling friend. "What?"

"Oh, this from the girl who gets squeamish around live fish?"

"They creep me out!"

"Ash, you're gutting that poor bunny like it's a stuffed toy!"

Indeed, the brunette was hollowing out the rabbit's inner cavity with the flat side of the knife, scooping out loops of intestines, kidneys, liver, stomach, and everything else that shouldn't be able to fit into such a small creature.

She shrugged. "That's because bunnies aren't all, like, scaly and slimy and crap. They have normal guts. You know, like the kind you see on TV all the time. Fish are just…alien."

Spencer turned away. "Oh god…"

"Besides, you never seem to have a problem doing this to the little water monsters."

"Fish aren't cute and fuzzy."

"Neither is rabbit stew. It's dinner. Which, by the way, is your department."

The blonde sighed. "Yes, _dear_."

With that, Spencer climbed down to their camp and began preparations for dinner. Water from the falls was caught in their pan, and a few wild onions were chopped up and thrown in. The fire was rebuilt, and the pot was placed on the rack to start the water boiling.

Still working on the rabbit, Ashley carefully peeled the fur hide from the body, using the knife tip whenever needed. When the pelt was removed, she carefully sliced the thin layer of meat away from the bone. There wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Washing the blood from her fingers as well as from the meat and knife, she carried the rabbit strips down to the fire. She cut them into small pieces and dropped them in the pan.

While the meat cooked, Ashley went back up to clean up her mess and bury the carcass in the woods. She cleaned off the back of the rabbit hide as best she could and brought it with her to dry by the fire.

Spencer looked up from the simmering stew. "What do you think they're doing in school right now?"

"Ugh, school. That is something I definitely do _not_ miss."

"Well, okay, maybe not the homework and boring lectures, but what about the people?"

Ashley raised a skeptical brow. "You mean the people that either hate me because I'm rich and hot or try to use me because I'm rich and hot?"

"Oh…right. Never mind."

"What about you?"

Spencer took a moment to think about it. "…Yeah, I miss it. I know it sounds weird, but I do. I mean, school is…normal. You know? Life."

"It doesn't sound weird when you put it like that."

The blonde smiled. "So, am I lumped into that category of people that use you because you're rich and hot?"

Ashley gave a short laugh. "No. You're a category all your own."

"Which is?"

"The best friend category."

"Aw."

"The hot, naked, best frien—" _Whap_. "Ow. That hurt," Ashley whined, rubbing her arm.

"Is it even possible for you to get through the day without some sort of nakedness entering your mind?"

"Not likely. Hey, you know, I'm still waiting to go skinny-dipping."

"Go ahead. I'm not stopping you."

"But it's only worth it if you're dipping, too."

Spencer smirked and leaned closer, her voice dropping. "Dipping?"

Ashley was pretty sure her brain turned to mush in that instant. A few mangled sounds spewed from her mouth, and Spencer gave a hearty laugh.

"You're so easy, Ash."

Ashley pouted. "And you're…mean."

The blonde tilted her head. "Did I hurt Miss Davies' feelings?

"_Yes_. You big meanie."

"Aw, I'm sorry," Spencer leaned even closer and her voice dropped a second time. "Want me to kiss it make it better?"

The brunette drew in a shaky breath as she stared at the blonde's lips. She knew what her friend was doing, and it wasn't fair. Ashley was the one who teased girls to tears, not the other way around.

She mustered her sexy tone. "Want me to show you how easy I am?"

Spencer scrunched her nose, her eyes squinting a bit. "Not your best line."

The brunette's shoulders slumped. "…I know. I fail at life, and its all your fault."

The blonde chuckled deeply, smiled, and give a light kiss to the tip of her friend's nose. "I think the stew's ready."

As Spencer checked the pot, she heard the low frustrated mumbled.

"…thank god…"


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

The pre-dawn cold did not come as a surprise. Ashley was shocked, however, to find a layer of white frost blanketing the area when she stepped outside the shelter that morning. A thick cloud of air billowed out of her mouth as she released a breath. The sun had yet to rise, and Spencer had yet to awaken, but she was restless. Picking up her hunting gear, she ventured out into the forest.

The tiny white crystals covered everything: the leaves, the branches, the grass, the moss, the ferns, the stones, even the flower petals stubbornly clinging to summer's fading grip. She tread lightly, listening to the soft crunch of her footfalls on the frosted ground. A step taken too close to a stand of brush, and a pheasant took off in a flurry of feathers.

Ashley didn't make a sound. Instead, she watched the creature fly away, watching as its mottled brownish gray form disappeared into the whitened woods. Something about the occurrence struck her. The fall chill had left its pale mark on the forest, but the warm-blooded bird was untouched.

Ashley walked deeper into the trees.

She paused in the midst of an indistinct area, a realm no different from any other area she had passed through. Her steps halted, her breaths quieted, her ears listened, and her eyes searched. A slight breeze rustled the leaves. An unnamed bird called. A squirrel chattered. Everything glistened in the rising sun, the white frost reflecting the morning rays cutting through the trees. All white, all shimmering.

Except there.

A thicket to her left, dappled with the same frost, appeared normal at a glance. But Ashley was looking further. Closer. A small round shape stood out of place, darker than its surroundings, textured smoother than the wooded brush encasing it. No frozen crystals clung to its brown and gray hues. No light reflected brightly off its form. As she stood still, the shape shifted, ruffled, and settled back down.

Slowly, silently, Ashley notched an arrow onto her bow. Cautious, measured steps were taken towards the thicket, ending a mere six feet away. The bow was raised, and the string drawn back.

And she waited.

She let the sounds of the woods surround her, encompass her, and enter her. She let herself become in tune with Nature's music, feeling the rhythm, letting it guide her senses. When she was in harmony with the woods, and the woods were in harmony with her, she released the bowstring.

_Shlunk._

A sharp cry. A rustle of feathers, brushwood, and leaves. A soft _thud_ as the form stumbled and hit to the ground. A breath of relief. A smile of accomplishment.

* * *

That smile of accomplishment turned into a grimace when faced with a stony glare upon her return. 

"You better have a damn good excuse for leaving without telling me first." The brunette held up the pheasant by its feet. "Oh."

"Sorry, Spence, but I was hungry, and you weren't up yet."

"How early did you leave?"

"Before sunup."

"Jeez, Ash."

The girl shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Well, I suppose I can forgive you, but don't do that anymore. I don't like waking up with you nowhere around."

Ashley gave a lopsided grin. "Aw, were you worried about me?"

Spencer was very nearly pouting. "You know I was."

"I'm sorry, Spence. Next time, I'll wake you up before I go. Okay?"

"Deal." The blonde looked at the bird, then smiled up at Ashley. "Another lucky shot?"

"Hope not, especially considering I was practically standing on top of the thing."

On impulse, Spencer hugged Ashley, holding her close. A muffled thank you was mumbled into shorter girl's shoulder.

"Aw, for what?" the brunette whispered back. "For butchering a cute innocent mini-turkey?"

Spencer giggled. "For…improving your aim."

Ashley snorted. It's not what the blonde was going to say, but she didn't need to. She pulled back. "Come on. Let's rotisserie this baby."

Ashley took care of the cleaning process, which turned out much more arduous that the rabbit mainly due to the multitude of feathers. Once the bird was plucked, the head and neck were removed, as were the feet, and the inner cavity was completely hollowed out. A crude rotisserie was constructed over the fire pit using birch branches, and the bird was periodically rotated on the stick it was suspended on.

They let the bird roast over a low flame well into the afternoon. Meanwhile, Ashley and Spencer worked on feathering their arrows. One side of the plume was shaved off with the knife edge, and the quill was fastened to the arrow shaft with duct tape. Each arrow received a trio of flight feathers.

When they had finished, they decided it was time to carve into the bird. A large slice of breast meat was sliced off for each girl. The skin was dry and crispy, but the meat was moist and fairly tender for their limited cooking means.

"Tastes like chicken," Ashley nodded in approval, her words muffled as she chewed happily.

Spencer smiled. "Imagine that."

After they both took a wing to pick clean, they left the remainder of the bird for a later meal. With the constant chill only deepening as the afternoon dwindled, they built the fire up to a large blaze. They spread their towels on the ground within the circle of heat and lay on their backs, looking up into the still sunny sky, their stomachs full and their minds quietly content.

"Ash? Sing a song for me."

Ashley lolled her head over to look at her friend. "Sing you a song…?"

"Yeah."

"Um, okay. Like what?"

Spencer shrugged lightly. "Anything. Whatever you want."

Ashley thought for a moment. Her eyes then lit up as the perfect song came to mind. "Damn, you know, I really wish I had my guitar for this."

"That's okay. Improvise."

Ashley stood up and summoned her best annoying California girl voice. "Okay, I totally dedicate this song to the day I met most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and my bestest friend in the whole wide world: Spencer Carlin."

Spencer shook her head in amusement, lips curled up in a smile. Ashley mirrored the grin, nose crinkling, and her eyes never left Spencer's.

"_There you see her,  
Sitting there across the way.  
She don't got a lot to say,  
But there's something about her.  
And you don't know why,  
But you're dying to try.  
You wanna kiss girl."_

Spencer added her endearing head tilt to her smile as images of the first day they met filled both their minds. Ashley sitting down next to the blonde in the bleachers. Raiding the streets of L.A. together after school. Ashley's hand covering Spencer's, and the cold both felt when the brunette finally pulled away.

"_Yes, you want her.  
Look at her, you know you do.  
It's possible she wants you, too.  
There's one way to ask her.  
It don't take a word, not a single word.  
Go on and kiss the girl.  
Kiss the girl."_

Ashley started pounding out a percussive rhythm on her leg with both hands, her head bobbing to the beat.

"_Shalalalalala  
My oh my,  
Looks like the girl's too shy.  
Ain't gonna kiss the girl.  
Shalalalalala  
Ain't that sad?  
It's such a shame,  
Too bad, you're gonna miss the girl.  
Go on and kiss the girl.  
Kiss the girl."_

The singer gestured to the lake as she began the next verse, her face taking on a more intense expression but still with a ghost of a grin shining through. Spencer laughed, a faint blush coloring her cheeks at Ashley's less than subtle insinuation.

"_Now's your moment,  
Floating in a blue lagoon.  
Girl, you better do it soon.  
No time will be better.  
She don't say a word,  
And she won't say a word  
Until you kiss the girl.  
Kiss the girl._

_Shalalalalala  
My oh my,  
Looks like the girl's too shy.  
Ain't gonna kiss the girl.  
Shalalalalala  
Ain't that sad?  
It's such a shame,  
Too bad, you're gonna miss the girl._

_Shalalalalala  
Don't be scared.  
You better be prepared.  
Go on and kiss the girl.  
Shalalalalala  
Don't stop now.  
Don't try to hide it how  
You wanna kiss the girl.  
Go on and kiss the girl._

_Aaaaaah, aaaaaah, aaaaaah  
Kiss the girl.  
La la la la, la la la la  
Go on and kiss the girl!  
La la la la, la la la la  
Go on and—_  
…_kiss the girl._

_Shalalalalala  
My oh myyyyyyyy!  
Ain't gonna kiss the girl.  
Shalalalalala  
Ain't that sad?  
It's such a shame,  
Too bad, you're gonna miss the girl._

_La la la la, la la la la  
Go on and kiss that girl!  
La la la la, la la la la  
Go on and kiss the girl!  
Go on and kiss the girl!  
Kiss the girl.  
Go on and kiss the girl!"_

Spencer jumped to her feet and clapped and cheered and screamed in her best fangirl imitation as Ashley raised her hands into the air as though to a crowd.

"Thank you, Canada! I love you!" She then took a bow.

"Ash, you're amazing," Spencer praised, lifting her hand to affectionately rub Ashley's upper arm.

Ashley covered that very hand with her own, softly running her fingers along the blonde's arm. "Nice change from me being an idiot, huh?"

"Yeah."

The brunette smiled widely as Spencer smoothed her fingers over the pink highlights in her dark tresses. Brown eyes were alight with surprise and hope, while blue orbs shone with unconcealed love and adoration. Biting her bottom lip, Ashley gently cupped the blonde's cheek with one hand and leaned in. Their lips just millimeters from each other, Spencer flinched back and turned her head away. Ashley frowned but said nothing.

"I should…uh, do something with that pheasant," Spencer said awkwardly, gesturing towards the bird.

Ashley watched the girl move away in hurt and confusion. _Damn, I thought that was going to be perfect… Way to screw it up again, Davies. 'Looks like the girl's too shy. Ain't gonna kiss the girl.'_

* * *

_Author's note: (Covers ears against screams of frustration) I'm torturing you all, I know. Poor Ashley. But I gotta say, I've been in Spencer's position before, and that's not fun either. _

_Ashely was singing the pop version of "Kiss the Girl" sung by Ashley Tisdale. Obviously, the occasional "boy" was replaced with "girl."_


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

The girls finished off the pheasant the next morning. There was a tangible tension between them, but unlike earlier days, this strain had nothing to do with their survival. Spencer was almost mute, shut off in her own world, leaving Ashley in the cold.

With the dropping temperatures came a greater need for firewood. After breakfast, the brunette took advantage of the excuse to leave camp, holstered the axe and went in search of timber. Previous quests had exhausted much of the loose wood on the ground in a fairly wide radius around the area, but during yesterday's hunt, Ashley had come across a downed birch, felled by the storm earlier that week.

The rest of the morning was spent chopping the narrow trunk into manageable sections to drag back to camp. Then, it took her much of the afternoon to trim the branches, shorten the trunk sections, and split them into halves. Thinking ahead, she had wrapped her hands in gauze before she began to prevent them from blistering.

By the time the wood was stacked in the shelter, along with a smaller pile just outside, Ashley's muscles were aching, she was drenched in sweat, and her hands were reluctant to unclench.

"Tired?" Spencer guessed, wandering up from the water's edge. In her hand, she held two fish.

"A bit."

"Hungry?"

"Starving."

While Spencer prepared her catch for a much needed dinner, Ashley stripped her sweat-soaked clothes off and let the cold falls spill over her. Feeling her burning muscles cool under the frigid water, she felt some of her tension wash away, only to have it spring back into place when she caught Spencer's eyes on her. For a rare moment in her life, she had no desire to flaunt her body, and she dried herself and dressed in clean clothes quickly.

The fish had just begun to fry, and the two sat in somewhat awkward silence, Spencer prodding the fillets with the utensil in her hand and Ashley brushing her hair. They sat on nearly opposite sides of the fire, instead of side by side like they usually did. After a short eternity, they were finally able to busy themselves with eating. It was so much easier to not worry about talking when you could occupy your mouth with chewing.

As time after dinner wore on, the stiffness in Ashley's muscles magnified. She rolled her shoulders and neck to try to loosen the tightness in them, but it didn't help. "Ugh, my shoulders are killing me."

Spencer hesitated, then patted the ground in front of her. "Here. Let me help."

Hesitation appeared to be contagious as Ashley faltered. Even so, the brunette moved over and dropped down with a grunt, her back to her friend. The blonde raised herself up onto her knees and started massaging the pain out of Ashley's neck, shoulders, and back.

The brunette was unable to restrain a moan. "God, I forgot how good you were with your hands…"

She noticed the smallest pause in Spencer's hands as the blonde seemed to shudder and decided it was probably best to not make comments like that.

Imagine her surprise when warm breath tickled her ear. "I seem to remember _you_ being pretty good with your hands, too."

The overall suggestiveness of the remark itself would have been more than enough to make Ashley question the integrity of Spencer's behavior at that precise moment, were she not paralyzed by the unquestionably wanton tone that delivered it. Her eyes closed of their own accord, and her breathing hitched when soft lips pressed against the flesh just beneath that very ear. A spark of desire flared in the pit of her stomach, the familiar rush of excitement and lust and need making her heart race.

Ashley's lips parted, shallow breaths passing through them while Spencer's lips glided across bronze skin to place a second feathery kiss on her cheek. A third soon followed. Ashley turned her head ever so slowly towards the blonde, rewarded by a fourth kiss. Her head turned a fraction more, her heart threatening to pound right out of her chest. Spencer's lips hovered closer to hers now. So close. A torturous fifth kiss was pressed to the very corner of Ashley's mouth. Unable to resist any longer, she craned her neck back, reaching a hand up to cup the blonde's face and drag her tantalizing lips to her own. A full second passed before Spencer jerked back as though burned.

Ashley let out a ragged sigh. "Damnit, Spencer, what the hell!?"

Both girls got to their feet. The blonde was obviously struggling to regain some measure of poise, her breathing heavy.

"What?"

"Would you make up your damn mind already? I mean, you want me, you don't want me…"

Spencer smirked, but there was a coldness in it Ashley had never seen before. "Frustrating, isn't it? When the person you love doesn't seem to know what she wants?"

"So you going to make this about Aiden now?"

"Why not? That's why we're here, right? You wanted us to go away together so we could work through our problems. So let's talk."

Ashley stared at Spencer for a long moment, her mind frantically trying to pull her thoughts together. "Spencer…I'm sorry, all right?"

"No, not all right, Ash. I've heard that apology from you so many times, I'm starting to wonder if you even know what it means."

The brunette dropped her head. "Then you tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"What are you feeling? Prom with Aiden, Clay, the summer after…How did all of it make you feel?"

"Betrayed." Ashley flinched, and Spencer continued. "Worthless, abandoned, lost and alone…With Aiden, I had already felt like I was losing you to him. And when I asked you, _begged_ you for an answer, for that confidence and trust, you blinked. You had to _think_ about what you wanted, Ash. And then when summer was over, and things fell apart even more, you just gave up. On me. On us. And you ran to _him_."

"He came to me," Ashley tried to reason. "Spencer, I was hurting—"

"Don't act like that makes it okay. I thought I knew you. I thought you were better than your reputation, but I guess Madison was right: you did burn me in the end."

"Spence—"

"Can you even _fathom_ how much it hurt to see you with Aiden that morning? To know that whatever we had together wasn't enough to stop you from jumping in bed with him the _second_ we were over? You knew _exactly_ what he wanted, you knew it would hurt me, and you didn't stop him. How do you explain that?"

Ashley found herself more than a little flustered by the onslaught. "He…he came to me. I was v-vulnerable and no, I didn't stop him. It was s-stupid and careless and probably exactly what everyone expected of me. Call me a whore if you want—"

"And _that_ makes it better," the blonde scoffed angrily.

"Of course it doesn't, but—"

"Are you in love with him?"

"_No_."

The answer was so prompt and firm that Spencer almost thought she could believe it. Almost. "Then why? If it wasn't love, then what the hell could he give you that I wasn't already giving you?"

"Aiden is…he's…" Ashley ran a hand through her hair and started again. "When things were falling apart, I needed something, someone, to make me forget the pain, if only for a little while. Aiden was…convenient. He's…safe and familiar and comfortable, and I used him. I know it was wrong on so many different levels, and I regret it, but I used him. I do love him, _as family_, but I'm _not in_ love with him. I'm not sure I ever was. Not…not like with you."

"But it wasn't enough, was it?"

Ashley opened her mouth to dispute it, but much like the night at prom, she was shocked into speechlessness.

Spencer continued. "As much as I wanted to believe otherwise, I just wasn't enough to satisfy the wild uninhibited Ashley Davies." Still, the brunette was struck silent. "You just…left, Ash." The blonde's anger was replaced by grief, and her voice cracked with the emotion. Her eyes welled, but no tears fell. "Clay…my brother got shot, and when he died, a part of me died, too, and you weren't there. The one person would could've held me together or helped me pick up the pieces, and you left. I needed you, Ashley. I needed you more than anyone, more than ever before, and you weren't there. I want to know why. Why would you do that?"

In that instant, Ashley was sent back six months to their first night together. _Because I want you, and I don't want to hurt you_. By the look of recognition on Spencer's face, the brunette realized she must had spoken the words out loud. Suddenly, everything was so clear to her. That simple admission, echoed after so long, was the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

"I just don't know how to _not_ hurt you," she continued, the words now coming easily. "I know I made you doubt me. Made you think I loved someone else. And then when I tried to fix it, I said everything wrong." She paused to wipe away the tears she didn't remember shedding. "You asked me to make a choice between you and Aiden, and I had said that I chose you. But that was all wrong."

At Spencer's look of shock, Ashley took her hand. "Spencer, there never _was_ a choice. There's only you. Since the first day you walked into my life, there's only ever been you. And it scares me. That I could love someone so completely. That I could need someone so...desperately. It scares me so much that the old Ashley, the person I was before I met you, still breaks through. I want to let you in, I want you so close, and I'm afraid of being hurt, but more than that, I'm afraid of being needed. I don't deal with pain well, and when you were hurting, I didn't know how to help you, and I was scared of making you hurt more, so I ran. Shut you out. It was the only thing I knew how to do, and back then I thought it would protect you. From me. I once told you that if I had to choose between being right and protecting you, I'd be wrong every single time. Well, I don't want to have to be wrong anymore. Not like that. I love you, Spencer. Help me be right? Right for us?"

Spencer didn't say anything. Her expression was unreadable. Wordlessly, she disappeared into the shelter while Ashley stood rooted in place. She had no idea what she was supposed to do, and several minutes passed with her just standing there. Her vision blurred. Her lip trembled. Finally, a single sob escaped, and the first of renewed tears began to fall. The floodgates were open, and she sank to her knees, hugging her arms tightly around her shaking body. Sobs wracked her form, and the watery drops tracked mercilessly down her face.

"What do I have to do? Just tell me what I have to do…"

Abruptly, she stood, stubbornly wiping the wetness from her cheeks. Clenching her teeth, she turned towards the woods to walk alone in her misery. After less than ten steps, she stopped.

_I'm never going to stop trying.'_

_You just gave up. On me. On us.'_

'_I don't want to have to be wrong anymore. Not like this.'_

Before she even realized she had turned around, Ashley found herself inside the grotto, standing a few feet from Spencer. Chocolate orbs looked up from the ground to meet sapphire pools. The look they shared said more than words ever could. Silent whispers of want and need, heartache and love. Eyes never leaving Spencer's, Ashley closed the distance between them and brutally captured those waiting lips with her own.

Bodies crashed together. Strong hands gripped her waist while her own held a slender neck. Her velvet tongue demanded entrance to a hot mouth, immediately granted to slide along its eager partner. Fingers tangled in blonde tresses and pulled their bodies even closer together, crushing lips and noses and teeth.

Frantic fingers seized the collar of Spencer's hoodie and pushed it off her shoulders and down her arms. Her mouth swiftly skimmed down a soft jawline and latched onto the exposed flesh of the girl's neck. The resulting moan sent shivers down Ashley's spine. Her skin burned from Spencer's touch as wandering hands slipped under her shirt, fingers raking across her back, sides, and abs. The brunette ripped her own sweatshirt off and dropped it to the ground to join the other. Spencer's shirt was not far behind.

The blonde's gasp of pain as her arms came back down from the shirt's removal froze Ashley's actions, and she searched Spencer's eyes for any sign to stop. There was none. Slowly, tenderly, she placed a kiss on the still-healing wound on the other girl's shoulder. Those gentle lips traveled across her collarbone, nipping, sucking here and there to leave her mark. Her tongue dipped and swirled into the hollow of Spencer's neck before trailing it up her throat and under her jaw to her ear. Feeling the blonde shiver, Ashley took the sensitive earlobe into her mouth and flicked her tongue across it. Catching the flesh between her teeth, she gave a light tug and was rewarded by a moan deep in Spencer's throat.

With a satisfied smile, she let go of the blonde's earlobe and pressed a kiss to the spot directly under it. Warm lips latched onto her neck, and Ashley purred when teeth grazed her pulse point. She arched with a gasp when those very teeth bit down, possessing her, marking her. The hot mouth abandoned her throat and connected with her own, tongue probing mercilessly. Fingers snaked under the hem of her shirt, climbing up heated skin and brushing over the satin fabric of the brunette's bra. Ashley whimpered when the pad of a inquisitive thumb slipped under the cup and brushed across the stiff bud it found there.

A flick of the wrist, and the bra was unclasped. Ashley tore herself away from Spencer's lips long enough to lift her shirt from her own body, letting the bra slide off her arms. Strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind, willing her to arch back, and Spencer dipped her head to kiss Ashley's exposed chest. That warm mouth traveled over a perfect breast to encircle the nub her thumb had earlier visited, and the brunette hissed in pleasure as teeth grazed the sensitive flesh. Spencer's bra was unhooked, and earnest lips chased the straps off the blonde's shoulders.

Ashley pulled back, forcing Spencer to cease her mouth's attentions. The brunette wrapped her arms around her lover, burying her hands in the blonde's hair as she reveled in the feel of their bare chests pressing together. Spencer likewise held her firmly, and they breathed each other in.

Ashley placed a kiss on Spencer's neck, cheek, temple and finally her lips before looking into her eyes. She then knelt down in front of her. Carefully lifting each foot, she removed Spencer's shoes and socks, the blonde holding her lover's shoulders for balance. With brown eyes never leaving blue ones, the brunette worked the other girl's belt loose, unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, and slipped the denim down long legs. The last barrier soon fell, and Spencer stepped out of both articles.

A kiss was pressed to a shapely calf, and those lips inched upwards, tasting sweet skin with the sporadic flick of the tongue. Warm palms slid up that same leg, holding it closely as a feather-light kiss was placed on the satin flesh of an inner thigh. Teeth nipped teasingly, and Spencer's fingers dug into her shoulders.

Heavy breathing was broken by a strangled whisper of the brunette's name. With a gentle tug, Ashley pulled Spencer down to kneel at her level. She ran her fingers through silken blonde hair and let her hands come to rest on either side of Spencer's face. She stared into ocean-blue depths, a place she would gladly lose herself in forever.

"…you are so beautiful…" she murmured.

Ashley traced a faintly-smiling bottom lip with her thumb before repeating the motion with the tip of her tongue. She was met with Spencer's tongue, and the two dueled gently amidst soft kisses and tender caresses. Hands around her neck began pulling Ashley down, but she caught those slender wrists in her hands and held them there.

"Spencer…"

Concerned sapphire eyes searched her own. "What?"

"I love you."

Concern was replaced with affection. "Ash…I never stopped."

A smile was exchanged, and a sweet kiss was shared. Ashley then allowed herself to be guided forward as Spencer laid back, their lips connecting as the brunette settled her full weight on her lover. The blonde moved her hands to unbuckle the smaller girl's belt and loosen her jeans, and Ashley kicked her footwear off. When Spencer hooked her thumbs into the waistband of both denim and boyshorts, the brunette thrust her entire body forward and out of the last two barriers separating them.

At last, they were skin to skin, heart to heart, soul to soul. No masks. No obstacles. No excuses. They felt as one, they breathed as one, they lived as one.

Ashley hovered over Spencer, eyes locked and breathing heavy. Her thigh slipped in between the blonde's, and blue eyes fluttered closed with a shuddering breath. Dipping her head, she let her nose brush along Spencer's, across her cheek and down her throat, trailing back up to join their lips. The blonde's hands stroked her back, nails lightly drawing across bronzed skin.

Ashley's right hand cupped Spencer's face briefly, traveling the length of her lover's torso and down to massage the thigh within its reach. The brunette's touch soon drifted under her own thigh. Spencer's eyes flew open when two fingers entered her, locking immediately with the brown orbs gazing down at her. A tiny curve of Ashley's lips belayed her awe, reverence, and peace at finally being lost inside her lover again. So lost, she didn't notice Spencer's hand slip down between them until slender fingers mirrored her own and entered her.

Her gasp of surprise and pleasure was cut off by the blonde's lips engulfing hers. Two fingers became three, and thumbs pressed up into the crux of nerves. Her strength waning, Ashley dropped her head down to rest in the crook of Spencer's neck. Bodies slick with sweat ground together, dancing that familiar rhythm, carrying both in an ever-upwards climb of love, passion, and ecstasy.

Fingers probed deeper, thumbs stroked harder, and hips bucked higher. As the first spasms of approaching release shook them, Ashley lifted herself enough to bring her mouth to Spencer's. Muscles tightened around strong fingers. They came together, soft cries muffled by lips and tongues. The waves rocked them as they held on, clinging desperately to each other as though to avoid being swept away.

Ashley let her head drop back to its previous spot as both girls breathed heavily. A bead of sweat trailed down her face. She flinched, though, when she felt a wet drop that wasn't her own roll down her cheek. Raising her spent body up, she gazed down at Spencer, seeing blue eyes squeezed shut and tears leaking out from under sealed lids.

"Spencer?"

Abruptly, Spencer pushed herself up so that she was sitting, her lover quickly following. The blonde hugged her arms around her naked chest as the tears flowed freely. Ashley realized in that moment that she had never actually _seen_ Spencer cry since the crash, and that the ever-mounting burden of bottled stress and emotion had finally found an outlet to escape through. The brunette cupped the girl's cheek and wiped the salty drops away with the pad of her thumb.

Spencer shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't—"

"It's okay," Ashley whispered. She slipped her arms around the girl, and Spencer did the same, resting her cheek on her lover's neck. "Did I hurt you?" She felt the blonde shake her head. "Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong…Everything is…just fine."

Ashley caught the implication and smiled into Spencer's hair. She hugged the girl even closer, laying her cheek down on her shoulder. Gently, they swayed back and forth in each other's arms. After a small eternity, Ashley felt Spencer's embrace relax, and she realized the blonde had drifted off to sleep. As smoothly as she could, she eased her lover down and into the sleeping bag, quietly slipping in beside her. She snuggled up against the younger girl, draping an arm over her torso, entwining a leg with hers, and burying her face into the crook of her neck.

"…love you…" came the sleepy whisper.

Ashley smiled and nuzzled even closer. "Love you, too, Spencer."

For months, sleep had never come so sweetly.

* * *

_Author's note: Yeah, I had to change the rating. That got a little more…involved…than I originally planned. Oh well. Honestly, this was a difficult chapter because that more intimate kind of interaction is not the most comfortable subject matter for me to write. It took me a long time to get through it, but I'm pleased with how it turned out. I hope I've managed to sate your Spashley needs. You know, at least until the frisky water adventures start ;)_

_Just a little note: If it seems like the turnaround was kind of fast, don't worry. It will be addressed. As they say, they're not out of the woods yet. Ha! Pun. _


	18. Chapter Seventeen

_I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last one. As I said, it was difficult to write, so it means a lot that you appreciated the intimate beauty and emotion in it._

_This is a shorter chapter, but it's of pure Spashley fluff._

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

Ashley stirred when she felt a feather-light fingertip trail down her cheek. Strands of hair were brushed away from her forehead, and a hand ran gently through her brown curls. She opened her eyes and found Spencer watching her.

She cracked a smile. "Hey, you."

Spencer smiled back. "Hey."

Raising herself up onto her elbow, Ashley took hold of the blonde's hand, studied it, and lightly traced the lines of her palm with a soft fingertip.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking your lifeline. I want to know that you're going to be around a while."

Spencer laughed, the words so sweetly familiar to her. Tenderly, Ashley kissed each fingertip that she held. She tasted that very palm with a flick of a teasing tongue before pressing her lips to the moistened spot. Holding that palm to her own cheek, she met glittering blue eyes.

"Are you all right?"

…_with everything that happened last night with us?_ She knew the words echoed in Spencer's mind just as they did her own. She had never believed one could have a new first time until she met Spencer. Then she believed one could never have a new first time with the same person again until last night. Now she believed that with Spencer, anything was possible. She nibbled softly on her lover's thumb as the other girl smiled.

"I'm more than all right." Even then, Spencer's smile slipped away as she seemed to hesitate. "But…" Ashley nodded to herself during the pause, fully knowing what was coming. "Ash…this doesn't…I mean, there's still…"

"I know," Ashley assured her lover. "This doesn't fix everything." She looked into Spencer's eyes. "But it's a start?" she asked hopefully.

The blonde gave another small smile and nodded. Ashley rubbed the hand held in her own with the pad of her thumb as she returned the loving gaze. Another kiss was pressed to the warm palm before she lowered her lips to sweetly embrace Spencer's. She snuggled back down against her lover.

Spencer hugged her arms around the smaller girl. "Can we stay like this forever?"

"I'd love to."

Less than a minute passed.

"Ash?"

"Yeah?"

"I have to pee."

Ashley sighed and rolled onto her back. "Well, _that_ was short."

Spencer cringed sheepishly as she got up. "Sorry."

"I think you and I have differing opinions of what forever is."

Ashley propped herself up on her elbow again, head on her fist and a light smirk on her face as she watched the blonde dress. As Spencer was putting her shoes on, the brunette stood and snaked her arms around her lover's waist from behind, hooking her chin over her good shoulder. Spencer leaned into her, her head instinctively rolling back as warm lips nipped at her throat.

"Ash…" she moaned. "…I really do have to go."

Feigning a disappointed sigh and eye roll, Ashley released her hold. "Fine. Go pee."

Spencer craned her neck and captured smiling lips with her own. She then practically ran out of the shelter, causing the brunette to laugh. Locating her own clothes, she began pulling them on. As she moved, she finally noticed how stiff and sore her muscles were from yesterday's activities. The wood chopping, of course.

"Aw, no more naked Ashley?"

The brunette glanced at the blonde. "Hey, no more naked Spencer means no more naked Ashley."

The blonde smirked. "Who said anything about no more naked Spencer?"

With a low growl, Ashley hooked her fingers around Spencer's belt and pulled the girl into her, letting their lips crash together. Her other hand cupped the girl's neck, sliding into blonde hair. Wandering fingers slipped under the hem of Ashley's shirt.

She hissed, jerking back. "Jesus, Spence, you're hands are freezing."

The blonde recaptured her lips. "That happens when—" kiss, "you—" kiss, "wash them—" kiss, "in cold water."

"Someone's frisky," Ashley teased into her mouth.

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Ooo, I like bossy Spen—"

She was cut off when the blonde's tongue claimed the inside of her mouth as its personal playground. Ashley gripped the collar of her sweatshirt and dragged her down to the ground, laying back and pulling Spencer on top of her. As soon as the blonde's weight landed on her own arms, though, she winced and gasped in pain.

"Oh god, Spencer, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking…"

Spencer just shook her head, her eyes still squeezed shut. She lowered herself down completely to take the burden off her injured shoulder, resting her cheek on Ashley's chest. The older girl began running her fingers through blonde tresses, her other hand idly tracing patterns on her back. Spencer was content listening to her lover's beating heart and feeling her chest rise and fall with every breath.

"Are you okay?" Ashley murmured after a while.

"Yeah."

"Comfortable?"

"Mm hm."

"Oh."

"What?" The other girl didn't respond. "You have to pee, don't you?"

"…yeah."

With a dramatic sigh, Spencer carefully rolled off the brunette. Reluctantly, Ashley got up and went out to do her business. When she came back, she found the blonde curled up in the sleeping bag, dozing peacefully. With a soft smile, she kicked off her shoes and slipped in behind her, cuddling up to her warm body and burrowing into her silky hair. It wasn't long before Ashley, too, drifted back off to sleep.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

_Not much happening here except pointless humor and fluff. I figured since I made you guys wait so long for Spashley goodness, I'd treat you again. They'll start fighting for survival again next chapter…well, maybe…eventually._

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

Ashley didn't stay asleep for long. As comfortable as she was snuggled up with Spencer, there was something she wanted to do before the blonde woke up. As smoothly as she could, she extracted herself from around the girl and picked up a few things that she would need. Quietly opening the survival kit, she pulled out two of the empty foil packs that they had washed to save for later use. She also pulled out one of the empty water bottles. Lastly, she grabbed her music notebook and stepped outside. It was mid-morning by that time and a bit warmer than it had been.

Setting the objects in her hands down, she started up the fire and placed a pot of water on the rack. Venturing into the woods, she headed to a second blackberry bush that Spencer had found during one of their hunting treks. Despite the cold days, the thicket was still ripe with berries. She picked a few handfuls as well as a few leaves, dropping them into the foil pack she brought with. Ashley then walked a bit farther into the forest, hoping the other item she sought had survived the frost. After a full ten minutes, she let out a triumphant grunt. Gathering the item she sought, she returned to the fire and threw the blackberry leaves into the heating water.

The second foil pouch was laid flat on her notebook, and half of the berries were poured out on top. The other item she had found was placed next to the berries. She folded the top of the first pouch to seal the remaining berries inside and set it aside. The tea had been boiling by this time, and she drained the liquid into the water bottle. Pleased with herself, Ashley picked up the bottled tea and makeshift plate and ducked back into the grotto. Setting the two articles down behind Spencer, she laid down in front of the sleeping girl, hugging an arm around her waist. A soft kiss was pressed to the blonde's forehead, causing her to stir.

When blue eyes cracked open, Ashley smiled and nuzzled her nose against a soft cheek. "Morning, beautiful," she murmured.

"Is it still morning?" Spencer asked sleepily, though a smile was now gracing her lips.

"For a little while."

The blonde rubbed her eyes. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A couple hours." Ashley tucked a strand of hair behind her lover's ear. "I brought you breakfast."

At the brunette's gesture, Spencer turned over to see the berries and tea. Her eyes then landed on the other item in the set. Sitting up with Ashley's arm still around her, Spencer picked up the stem of freshly cut wildflowers and smiled softly. Three white blossoms adorned the green stem, their milky petals complemented by the splash of pale yellow in their centers. Spencer idly turned the flowers around between her fingers, gazing down at them with that same gentle smile. She felt tender lips touch just beneath her ear, a whisper passing between them.

"I love you."

Spencer looked over her shoulder and into Ashley's dark eyes. "I love you, too, Ash. You're sweet."

"So…can I be your girlfriend again?"

The blonde laughed quietly. "Yes."

Their lips met, sweetly, lovingly, passionately. When they pulled apart, Ashley leaned her forehead against Spencer's temple, wanting the moment to last as long as their forever could.

* * *

"Spencer. Don't. Move." 

"What is it?"

"Shh."

"Wha—Oh god…"

"Back up slowly."

"Oh god, why is it coming towards us?"

"Shh. Don't startle it."

"Isn't it supposed to be afraid of us?"

"The entire _world_ fears that thing, not the other way around."

"Um, Ash? It's coming closer."

"You think I don't notice? Hey, are you using me as a shield?"

"…no…"

"Yes, you are, you whore."

"_Hey_!"

"_Shh!_"

"Sorry. Ow!"

"What?"

"Tree branch."

"Graceful."

"Shut up."

"Slowly, now. Just take it—stop. Don't stare it in the eye."

"It's kind of hard not to."

"Stare at the ground."

"I am! The ground that it's standing on."

"Then stare at my ass."

"Fine…Ash, it's still following us."

"I think it's curious."

"Yeah, well, I'm really not. Shoot it."

"What? I'm not going to try to shoot that thing! Are you crazy?"

"Are _you_?"

"Look, we're fine as long as it doesn't turn around."

"You do realize those things can strike up to fifteen feet away, right?"

"…"

"And that we're closer than fifteen feet?"

"…"

"Ash?"

"Run when I tell you."

"_What?_"

"It can't turn around _that_ fast…"

"Are you willing to bet on that?"

"…"

"Ash…"

"Just—wait. It's turning."

"Oh god."

"I think…I think it's walking away. Just don't move. We'll be fine."

The two girls stood still as statues, holding their breaths as the creature turned away from them, flicking its tail with the movement. With small, nearly inaudible grunts, it began waddling off. They waited until the black fur and white stripes had disappeared into the brush before releasing a collective sigh.

"Jesus Christ…"

"I think I almost had a heart attack."

"Yeah…" Regaining her breath, Ashley punched Spencer in her good arm.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"That was for telling me to shoot it!"

"Oh, _now_ you have a problem shooting fuzzy little animals?"

"I do when the fuzzy little animal is _that_ thing. I _so_ don't want to know what skunk tastes like."

"I didn't mean so we could _eat_ it. Gross."

"Okay, fine. But what would've happened if I missed?"

"…"

"I think we would've royally pissed it off. That's what."

"All right, fine. You're right."

"Damn straight. And that's why I have the artillery and you don't."

"Yes, because you have such a cool head at all times. I seem to recall a certain rifle incident…?"

"Bite me. At least I wasn't panicking, unlike _some_ people."

"Panicking?"

"Yeah, panicking. You know, screaming at the top of your lungs like a little girl?"

"You mean like when that fish touched your arm?"

"…shut up…" The blonde just smirked. "Grr."

"Grr?"

"Yes, grr."

"Aw, are you made at me?"

Ashley gave a dramatic sniffle. "…yes…"

"Hey, no pouting."

Automatically. the brunette's bottom lip stuck out a bit more. "Why not?"

"Because if you do, I'm going to have to call you cute and adorable again." That protruding lip quivered the tiniest bit. "You know, actually, you're kind of sexy when you pout."

Inevitably, that puppy dog frown quirked up into a smile, causing Spencer to laugh. Ashley looked up at her with bright twinkling eyes. "I'm _always_ sexy."

The blonde donned a look of deep thought, then shrugged nonchalantly. "…meh."

"Meh?" Ashley repeated indignantly. "That's all I get? _Meh_?"

"What would you prefer?"

Ashley smirked, leaning quickly in to take the blonde's earlobe into her mouth. No sooner than she began sucking lightly did a moan escape the other girl's lips.

The brunette pulled back, grinning victoriously. "That."

"Evil," Spencer rasped.

"Payback's a bitch."

"Is it now?"

"Oh yeah." Ashley pulled the blonde closer by the pocket of her jeans. "And I think you're about to get the bitch fest of a lifetime right…" Ashley trailed off as her attention shifted to something over Spencer's shoulder. "…later because, oh my god, that thing is back."

The blonde's face scrunched in confusion. "What?"

Ashley pointed past the girl, gesturing with undefined frantic motions. "The…the…just—" She gave up and grabbed Spencer's arm. "Run."

As she was being pulled away, Spencer glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening when she saw the small bundle of black white-striped fur shuffling towards them. "Oh god."

The two girls nearly ran all the way back to camp—nearly, because Spencer's shoulder was still aching, and she was trying not to jar it. Needless to say, they decided to try their luck with fishing instead, neither wishing to go back into the woods where the tiny black and white fiend was roaming around. Fortune was on their side, and they fried up two fish for dinner.

They lounged by the fire after they ate, Spencer laying with her head in Ashley's lap while the brunette played with her lover's hair. Hands moved down the blonde's face and neck, fingers tracing idly along the skin just beneath her shirt collar.

"Hey," Ashley murmured quietly, "I was thinking I should take a look at your shoulder."

Spencer smirked, rolling her head back to look upside down at the girl above her. "You mean you didn't get a good enough look last night?"

The brunette mirrored the grin, staring down at her. "I believe my eyes were focused about five inches lower."

"Ah." The blonde shook her head, feigning disapproval. "Anything to get my shirt off…"

Ashley lowered her lips to Spencer's for a sweet kiss. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she murmured gruffly.

The blonde sighed dramatically. "Fine."

Instead of taking the shirt completely off, though, Ashley merely pulled the collar aside and gently checked the suture site with a probing finger. "You know…I think it's closed…"

"It has been two weeks…" Spencer mused.

"God, only?"

"Yeah, feels like longer doesn't it?"

"Ugh. So…should I take the stitches out?"

"If it looks closed, then yeah. _Please_," the blonde added. "They itch."

Scooting out from under Spencer, Ashley went inside the grotto to grab the small medical scissors. A few snips, and the thin line of suture was pulled free of the younger girl's skin.

"There. All better."

"All better, my ass. Still hurts like a…very…unpleasant……thing."

Ashley snorted and kissed her on the temple. "I'm sorry, Spence." She dropped to a husky whisper, mocking the girl from the other day. "Want me to kiss it make it better?"

"…Meh."

Ashley let out a faux offended growl and glared at the girl whose head was still in her lap. With a sweetly innocent smile, Spencer beamed up at her lover.

"You, Spencer Carlin, are the spawn of Satan."

"Huh. Well, then that kinda makes this thing with us incest or something…"

"Ugh. Bitch."

"Whore."

"Tramp."

"Slut."

"Wench."

"Harlot."

"Hooker."

Spencer had to pause. "…Harpy."

Evidently, they were running out of insults. "Um…hussy."

Or not. "Skank."

"…Homemaker."

"Home_wrecker_."

"……Tart."

"_Trollop_."

"Trollop? Nice."

"Thank you."

"Dyke."

"Hey!"

"Oh. Right."

"Lesbian."

Ashley grinned at her lover. "I love you, Spence."

Spencer grinned back. "I love you, too, Ash."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

_The drama is going to slowly start picking up again._

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

"Don't you have something better to be doing?"

Ashley smirked. "Nope."

"You sure?"

"Spence, unless Eliza Dushku drops out of the sky and asks me to rub lotion on her, I'm not moving from this spot."

The blonde shook her head and threw her jeans at the brunette, who just laughed. "You could join me, you know…"

"Tempting, but I already showered, and since I'm just now starting to warm up, I really don't feel like getting in the freezing water again."

"See what you miss out on when you wake up at an ungodly hour?"

"See what _you_ miss out on when you sleep in?"

Rolling her eyes, Spencer discarded the rest of her clothes and stepped under the falls, muttering under her breath. "…Eliza Dushku…."

"Hey, don't diss Faith," Ashley warned from her vantage point. "You know she's hotter than Buffy. Hell, she's the hottest one on the show."

"Oh, you mean the dark wavy hair, dark piercing eyes, hot curvy body, bad girl image, and sexual prowess…?" Spencer listed with a raised brow at Ashley.

"Sounds vaguely familiar…"

"Yeah…" A beat. "I always like Willow more."

"_What_? Blasphemy."

"Maybe it's the shy innocent thing."

"Wha…what about when she goes all evil and vindictive?"

Spencer shrugged as she left the water's flow. "Bonus."

The brunette handed the girl her towel. "Okay, fine, Willow gets hot after season three—especially once Tara comes into the picture—and the whole Dark Willow phase is a total turn-on, but you'd seriously take Willow over Faith?" she asked incredulously, raising her palms in front of her to signify the two options.

Spencer smirked as she dried herself. "Put your hands together."

Ashley's jaw dropped. "_Spencer Carlin_. I think you are spending entirely way too much time around me."

The blonde gave her a peck on the nose. "Never." She began pulling her clothes on. "I always did think those two would make a good couple. You know, once they both worked through their crap."

"Yeah, I could see that. And Faith is _way_ cooler than Kennedy."

"Not much of a contest there."

Ashley snickered and then held up her bow. "So, shall we?"

An hour later found the two in the woods. Spencer hung back several paces while Ashley, arrow notched to the bowstring, was taking careful steps towards a stand of tall grass. Her eyes were locked on a brownish form huddled within the camouflaging foliage. As close as she dared get, she lifted the bow and drew the string back. Just as she had done two days prior, she waited, letting the moment settle and envelop her. She held her breath.

_Thud._

"And that's how it's done," she announced proudly.

Spencer walked up beside her and nodded. "Nice. You get to carry it."

"Wimp." Ashley walked over to retrieve the pheasant. "I'd rather carry this than a slimy squirming fish."

"Wait, _who's_ the wimp now?" Spencer challenged with a raised brow.

"You are, dear."

"_Hey_. I'm already carrying the arrows _and_ rifle."

"Only because you insisted."

"…still."

Ashley grinned, then her eyes went wide. "Oh my god, Spencer, LOOK OUT FOR THE GOPHER BEHIND YOU!"

Spencer just sighed. "Cute."

The brunette's nose crinkled up. "I know. Well, what do you say we…" She trailed off, her eyebrows drawing together. "…what is that?"

"Another gopher?" the blonde guessed in a bored tone.

"No, that sound."

Realizing Ashley was serious, Spencer strained her ears. A low drone in the distance was gradually getting louder, its pitch increasing. The two girls exchanged looks, then turned their gazes up into the sky. Frantically, the brunette dropped the pheasant and bow, checking the pockets of her sweatshirt.

"Spence, I don't have it."

"What?"

"The flare gun. Do you?"

The blonde seemed to be in a shocked daze for a few seconds before snapping out of it. She set the rifle and arrows down and dug into her sweatshirt pockets. She found the box of cartridges for the rifle, and that was it. Ashley cursed, looking up through the tree canopy as the rumble was now passing overhead.

And she ran.

Following the sound of the plane's engine and glimpses of the white craft through the branches, she dodged around trees and jumped over logs, tripping on the undergrowth of vines in her haste. She made it into a small clearing and ran to the center, waving her arms and shouting futilely to gain the pilot's attention, but it was too late. The plane was already long past the meadow, hurtling away from her on an unwavering course.

Ashley slowly let her arms drop to her sides as she stared at the retreating form of the plane. Her eyes fell next, drifting down to the ground. Two arms started to wrap around her, but she shrugged them off.

"Ashley, it's okay—"

"No, it's not. You're not the idiot who forgot the flare gun."

"You're not an idiot." The brunette just scoffed. "Ash, we haven't seen a plane in two weeks. What were the odds that the one day we didn't have the flare gun with us, we'd see one?"

"The kind of odds that only the 'amazing' Ashley Davies can pull off?"

Spencer waved it off with a light smirk. "You give yourself too much credit. You're not _that_ amazing…"

She was pleased to see a tiny grin fighting to break through Ashley's scowl. She topped it off by nudging the brunette, watching the girl clench her jaw to stop from smiling. Spencer then nudged her a second time, then a third until Ashley finally pushed back with a glare that was more happily annoyed than angry. The blonde put an arm around her lover's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze, bringing their foreheads together.

"We'll be okay. Isn't that what you've been telling me this whole time?"

"Yeah…I know, but…"

"I know…" Spencer whispered. "I know…"

The blonde nuzzled along Ashley's face, feeling the older girl begin to relax. She kissed Ashley once, twice, and then brushed her lips over the brunette's ear, making her shudder.

"I believe there's a pheasant waiting to be plucked and gutted." The other girl gave a frustrated growl as Spencer pulled away. "Not what you were hoping for?" she teased.

"No, I was kind of hoping to stick my hand in something _other_ than a dead bird." Ashley's received a light swatting. "What? You brought it up…"

The blonde just shook her head as she picked up the pheasant at their feet, handing it and the bow to Ashley. Taking the rifle and arrows in hand, she started walking back. "Great," she drawled. "Thank you for _that_ image. Now thinking of your hands will forever be tainted by bird guts."

"Well, it's only fair. Yours are already tainted by _fish_ guts," Ashley reminded as she followed alongside her.

"Bunny rabbit."

"Fish bait."

"Aiden."

Ashley searched desperately for something worse than that. "_Damn_…Hey, but so are yours!"

"Ah, but I never slept with him."

"Ugh…lucky bitch…"

"Ha, I win," Spencer announced with a cheeky smile.

"You always win at this," Ashley pouted.

"That's what you get for sleeping with him."

"I seem to recall you _almost_ sleeping with him _twice_."

"Almost doesn't count. Especially considering I was thinking of you both times."

"Damn you…Wait, _both_ times?"

"Yeah."

"Even the first time when you were drunk and all over each other?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, hey, I was thinking of you the entire time, too."

"Yeah, but my thinking of you made me _stop_."

Ashley gave an incredulous look. "You didn't 'stop.' You passed out. There's a difference."

"Not…not that…...second time..." The blonde's voice had dropped to a tiny mumble.

"Didn't _Aiden_ stop _you_ then?"

"…uh…"

"Ha! Owned."

"Well—"

"Nope."

"But—"

"Nuh uh."

"He—"

"I win."

"But—"

"Who's your daddy now?" _Whap_. Ashley just laughed as she rubbed the back of her head. "You're kinda hot when you're mad."

Spencer shook her head and crossed her arms as they walked. "You're still not going to 'score' tonight."

Ashley chuckled evilly. "We'll see."

* * *

The bird was roasted. It was smaller than the first Ashley had brought in, and with only a breakfast of blackberries in their stomachs, they picked the carcass clean. As the day wore on, Ashley gradually sunk back into her self-deprecation over the flare gun until she finally disappeared into the grotto to sulk. For a time, Spencer let her be. For a time. 

"Ash."

The brunette, laying on her stomach with her face buried in her arms, didn't lift her head. "What?"

Spencer prodded her. "Come outside."

Ashley shifted slightly. "Why?"

"Just…come on." The blonde took her arm and pulled her to her feet.

"Spencer—"

"Come on!" the other girl insisted, dragging her outside.

"Spence, it's freezing out here, why do I have to—"

Spencer grabbed Ashley's chin and lifted so that the brunette was looking up. She let go as Ashley's jaw fell open. Dancing in the darkened cloudless sky were broad swirls of green and blue lights. The ethereal hues reflected on the rippling surface of the lake and bathed the scene in a soft glow.

"Northern Lights," Spencer murmured against Ashley's ear. "Still think Canada is boring?" she teased.

Ashley didn't respond, still entranced by the spiraling bands of lights flowing over the lake. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that the blue of Spencer's eyes had taken on a shade of green. "Thank you. For showing me this."

Spencer just smiled, hugging her arms around Ashley from behind and kissing her cheek. They stood watching the light show for several minutes before moving back into the relative warmth of the grotto. Turning the sleeping bag so that the open end faced the entrance, they climbed under its cover and propped themselves up on their elbows to continue gazing up at the eerie sky.

Spencer squeezed her hand. "Everything that's happened…everything we're going through…it's all worth it, in its own way."

Ashley leaned her head against her lover's shoulder. "You're worth anything."


	21. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty**

Ashley was stirred from sleep by the harsh sound of heavy rain slapping against the rock just outside the grotto. Shifting her position, she felt wet splatter hitting her face. With a groan, she opened her eyes and looked outside. Mere inches from her head, what looked to be partially frozen rain pummeled the earth.

"…wonderful…"

She rolled over and shook Spencer's shoulder. "Spence, wake up."

The blonde grumbled and reluctantly cracked an eye open. "What?"

"We gotta move the sleeping bag before it gets soaked."

Blinking her eyes into focus, Spencer glanced outside, noticing the sleet for the first time. She also noticed how her breath puffed visibly as she exhaled. The two got up and moved their bed back to its original spot, and Spencer crawled right back in. Ashley chuckled and knelt down next to her, running her fingers through the blonde's hair.

"Tired?"

"It's still early," the younger girl murmured.

"Yeah, I don't think the sun's up yet. Hard to tell."

"Come back to bed," came the sleepy request.

"I'm up already. I was thinking maybe I'd try to find us breakfast."

Spencer was suddenly wide awake. "Ash, you can't go hunting in this. You'll freeze. Nothing will be out anyway."

Ashley glanced outside at the freezing rain. Then she looked down at the blonde and the hand that was now holding her own. Guess which one won. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Spencer closed her eyes as the brunette settled back in next to her. "I'm always right." She was rewarded with a snort and an arm around her waist. She suppressed a yawn. "It's true."

"Okay, you are."

"…took you long enough…"

Ashley listened as Spencer's breathing evened out over the next few minutes. She wasn't sure how the girl could fall asleep with the sound of the sleet pounding just outside, but she didn't mind. She took the opportunity to study the sleeping blonde, memorizing the girl's features just as she had done countless times before. It was a pastime Ashley never tired of. Her eyes traced along a soft jawline and over full lips. The tiniest frown creased a pale brow.

The blonde whimpered and shifted, causing a few strands of hair to fall over closed eyes. Ashley gently brushed those strands away, letting her fingers trail over Spencer's neck. A faint smile came to the sleeping girl's lips, and Ashley automatically mirrored it.

She stayed like that for several hours, listening to the rain outside and watching Spencer sleep next to her. When the blonde began to rouse, Ashley kissed her nose and nuzzled her a bit, guiding her back into the waking world.

Spencer yawned without opening her eyes. "It's still raining?"

"Looks like."

Still the blonde's eyes remained closed as she frowned. "But I'm hungry."

"I know. I am, too."

Finally, Spencer lifted her gaze to Ashley's, smiling lazily before pushing herself up. She glanced outside at the liquid curtains falling steadily and sighed. "You think this place has room service?" she joked.

Ashley rolled onto her back and stretched. "Well, I could make a call, but I don't think the rabbits and pheasants will deliver."

"Well, that sucks."

The brunette smirked and hooked her finger under the waistband of Spencer's jeans, pulling the giggling blonde down on top of her. The thought of tickling the other girl had barely entered her mind when she found her hands pinned above her head.

"Don't even think about it, Davies."

"How do you do that?"

"I'm gifted."

"Apparently." Ashley lifted her head up to kiss Spencer, but the blonde held herself just out of reach. "Heeeeey."

"What?"

"No fair."

The blonde cocked her head to the side. "And what would you consider fair?"

"Well, you _did_ say you were hungry…"

Spencer donned a look of boredom. "Other options?"

"Naked straddling?"

A smile was threatening to break through. "Or?"

"Naked wrestling?"

The smile grew. "Or?"

"Naked Twister?"

Two brows scrunched together. "We don't have a Twister board."

"Oh. Right. Naked tag?"

"In the sleet?"

"No, guess not. Naked—"

"Ash, how long are you going to continue this?"

"Until at least one of us is without clothing. Preferably you."

"I see."

Ashley wriggled under Spencer, trying unsuccessfully to free her hands. "How about naked…Oh, screw it. Just kiss me."

"Why? It's so much fun watching you squirm."

"There are other more enjoyable ways to make me squirm, Spence. Writhe. Moan. Plead, even, if you're determined."

An evil glint flashed in blue eyes. "Really."

Brown eyes darkened. "Absolutely."

One of Spencer's hands dropped from Ashley's wrists and skimmed slowly down the brunette's arm, face, neck, and chest. The blonde smirked as her hand grazed over the smaller girl's ribs. Ashley's eyes widened in sudden dread and realization a mere second before Spencer's fingers started mercilessly poking, prodding, and squeezing her sides. Uncontrolled laughter erupted from the brunette, and she struggled against Spencer's strong grip.

"Goddamn…Spence…so unfair!" she managed between gasps of laughter. The tickling continued. "God, Spencer, stop!" Ashley squealed. "Okay, uncle! Uncle!"

The blonde ceased her onslaught, sitting up so that she was straddling Ashley's hips. She didn't let go of the girl's wrists. "Huh, look at that. I _can_ make you writhe and plead."

The brunette was still fighting to catch her breath. "You forgot moan."

"Oh darn." Spencer sounded somehow less than sincere.

"You're going to pay for that, Carlin."

"I'm shaking."

"You will be."

"Is that a threat?"

"That's an Ashley Davies guarantee."

Spencer finally released her lover's hands. "And if I'm not satisfied with your service, what kind of warranty do you offer?" She received a slap on the rear for that little comment.

Ashley's hands came to rest on the blonde's hips. "You know, I'm noticing you got the straddling thing going, but neither of us is naked."

Spencer just rolled her eyes and climbed off the brunette. Ashley smiled and sat up to hug the blonde from behind as they both gazed outside. As much as she joked, she was perfectly content just holding Spencer.

The sleet continued on into late morning. When it finally stopped, Ashley packed the rifle, shells, and arrows into Spencer's empty backpack while the blonde started up a fire with their dry wood supply. The brunette called over her shoulder as she started off.

"Be back in a while."

"Happy hunting."

* * *

There was a thin layer of slush on the ground. Ashley cringed at the squishing sound her shoes made as she sloshed through the rain-soaked undergrowth. Branches dripped on her as she passed underneath, each cold drop that hit her making her shiver. The occasional gust of wind only chilled her further. She pulled her sweatshirt even closer around herself. 

Nearly three hours of searching, and there wasn't a single living thing in sight. Even the sparrows seemed to be in hiding. She kicked through the tall grasses and thickets just to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her, but no flurry of feathers met her. She came to the meadow she had run into the day before. The overgrown grasses were weighed down with the morning's dense moisture. Making a pass through the clearing and finding nothing, Ashley turned back.

Hearing a rustled off the right, she notched an arrow to her bow, halting her steps. About thirty seconds passed while Ashley tried to locate the source of the sound. Then, she saw the tiny brown form, it's black and white stripes making it stand out against the foliage.

"Damn."

With the single uttered word, the chipmunk froze for a few moments before it darted off into the brush. Ashley ran a hand through her dampened hair and continued back to the lake. It was nearly dark when she made it back, and she found Spencer sitting on a dry piece of wood in front of the fire. Wordlessly, Ashley walked past her lover and into the grotto. When she reemerged, she held their last can of soup in her hand.

"I saw a chipmunk," she said in response to Spencer's unasked question. "So unless we still have some of that plant crap…"

"I haven't gone out to get more."

"Should we try for fish?"

"We don't have any bait, and it's getting too dark to see anything."

"I guess soup it is then." Ashley put the opened can on the cooking rack and sat down next to Spencer. The bottom six inches of her jeans were soaked, and she was grateful for the fire's warmth as she rubbed her hands together. "We need to do some kind of food stocking or something."

Spencer nodded. "We got lazy."

Ashley gave a weak smirk. "Well, we _did_ get a little distracted…"

"We did," the blonde agreed with a grin of her own. It slipped away. "I don't know how we're going to store anything more than a day, though. The vegetation will rot, and the meat will spoil…"

Ashley shook her head and leaned against Spencer. "I'm too tired and hungry to think about it."

The blonde wrapped an arm around her lover's shoulder, and they waited for their soup to heat. One of their safety nets had just fallen away.


	22. Chapter Twenty One

_Okay, so I wasn't actually planning on doing a frisky water adventure, but since some people sounded so excited about it, I put in a completely inappropriately timed scene just special for you guys._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-one**

Ashley had gone out at the crack of dawn, bow in hand. Spencer stayed behind again, this time bringing out one of the fishhooks. It was another cool morning, and even when the bright rays of the sun started to peek over the tree line, the stubborn chill remained.

The huntress was gone the entire morning and into the early part of the afternoon. Spencer stayed diligently by the water's edge, changing locations after hours of no success.

"No luck?"

The blonde glanced over her shoulder at the approaching brunette, her gear already dropped off at the grotto. "Oh, no, I'm just sitting in the freezing cold for the hell of it."

Ashley crouched down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I didn't get anything, either. I had a shot, and I _missed_."

"At least you _had_ a shot. I've already tried two other spots, and I'm starting to think the fish got smarter." Spencer pulled in the line. "I'm going to try farther down the lake."

"Is that a blackberry?" Ashley asked, referring to the bait on the fishhook as they walked.

"The worms haven't been out since it got colder, and since we forgot to save some of the pheasant goo from the last time, this was all I could find to use."

"Clever."

"Apparently they don't think so," Spencer grumbled, waving a hand at the lake after tossing the line out.

"Yeah, because they're _probably_ thinking, 'Where the fuck is my grub, bitch?'"

"Eloquent."

"Eh, they're fish."

"Maybe…they need to be lured in."

The brunette failed to see the smirk on her lover's face, and her eyebrows drew together. "I thought that's what the bait was for."

"I mean something a little more…potent."

Ashley still didn't notice Spencer's devious grin. "Such as?"

"Maybe if you took off all your clothes and stood in the middle of the lake…"

"Hey!"

"What?"

"You're going to feed me to the fish?"

"No, I was going to use you as _bait_."

"…how is that different?"

"You're too big for them to eat, but they'll be attracted to your…assets. Then you can just…grab them."

"Um, ew?"

"Maybe if you just wiggled your fingers," Spencer demonstrated, "they'd latch on. Like in Xena."

Ashley glowered. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

Spencer gave a brilliant smile. "Yep."

"Really." Ashley bent down to the lake's edge and dipped her hand in the lake. Without warning, she swept her hand up, splashing water onto Spencer. "How about now?"

"HEY!"

"What?" the brunette asked innocently.

Spencer pouted and started pulling the fishing line in. "That's not very nice."

"Neither is you wanting to use me as fish bait."

The blonde picked up the fishhook out of the water and quickly flung water at Ashley, making the older girl yelp.

"_Hey_ now."

"What?" Spencer mocked.

"You…" Ashley growled. "Fine. You wanna go? We'll go."

"Go where?" The blonde saw the look in Ashley's eyes and started backing up. "No. Oh god, no, Ash—"

Before the girl could run away, the brunette grabbed a shrieking Spencer around the arms, dragged her to the water's edge, and tossed her in. The blonde landed with a magnificent splash, spraying Ashley somewhat, but she just laughed.

"Who's gonna wiggle their fingers for the fishies _now_?" She quickly bit her lip, though, when she noticed Spencer's glare. The blonde was sitting on the lake bottom, cold water up to her chest. Ashley cringed. "I'm sorry. That was mean, huh?"

"Just a bit."

The brunette apologized again and offered her hand to Spencer. The blonde grasped Ashley's forearm, but instead of pulling herself up, she gave a sharp tug, sending the other girl face first into the lake with a scream. Spencer pushed herself up and started making her way to dry land, but Ashley caught her around the waist and hauled her farther out into the shallows. When they were chest deep standing up, the two splashed water at each other, cursing and laughing at the same time.

Sopping wet several times over, Ashley slung her arms around Spencer's neck while the blonde gripped her waist. They grinned at each other, and their lips met, tongues dueling and teeth nipping. Ashley gasped when Spencer's hand slipped into her jeans, two fingers diving into her.

"_Jesus_," Ashley panted. "Spence, is this…" More panting, "…really something we should be—_Fuck_."

The brunette's eyes closed of their own accord as Spencer's fingers curled inside her. Her head fell against the blonde's shoulder, her arms wrapping tighter around the girl's neck.

"You were saying?" Spencer murmured into her ear.

"…no idea."

The blonde smiled, but her chuckle turned into a moan when Ashley sucked the flesh of her throat into her mouth. The brunette pulled back and grinned mischievously as she dropped her right hand down beneath the water's surface.

"Two can play this game."

* * *

"Ash, I can't feel my toes." 

"Damn, I'm good."

"No, I mean this water is freezing."

"Oh. That too."

Disentangling from each other, The two girls waded through the water and climbed onto the bank. Now they were both soaked, cold, still hungry, and with no fish to show for it. Fooling around for a half hour in a frigid lake will do that.

Ashley pulled her hair back and wringed the moisture out of it. "Okay, I'm pretty sure we just scared everything away."

Spencer did the same to her own hair. "Nothing was biting anyway, and aren't you satisfied now?"

"Satisfied? Oh no. See, there was only dipping. There was no skinny about it. No skin means no satisfaction." The blonde raised a brow. "Well, okay, there _was_…" Ashley cleared her throat, "_satisfaction_, but…Oh screw it, that was hot."

"It kinda was."

"Kinda? Jeez, Spence, I thought _I_ was supposed to be the sex-starved one."

"Oh, you are. You're just a bad influence, too." She picked up the fishhook she had dropped during the water fight and handed it to Ashley. "I'm going to go see if the cattail stands are still…standing."

"All right. I'll have some dry clothes out for you."

"Thank you."

They shared a kiss, and Spencer walked off even farther down the lakeshore. Ashley returned to the campsite and built up the fire. Shedding her wet clothes, she changed into dry ones and pulled out a set for her lover. Spencer walked back with two of the green stalks in her hands and washed them under the falls.

Freshly changed and in front of the fire warm, Spencer sat between Ashley's knees as they chewed on the crunchy stalks.

Ashley looked at the green stem in her hand with something akin to disgust. "All right, tomorrow, I'm not coming back until I have some creature dead in my hand."

Spencer craned her neck back to look at her lover. "That sounds…sinister."

"I'm serious. We need a little more substance than _this_," she said, punctuating her statement by taking another noisy bite out of the stalk.

"I know."

The sun was beginning to sink into the horizon, and a ghostly howl echoed in the distance. Soon, it was joined by others of varying pitches, their dissonant song piercing through the coming dark. Ashley hugged her arms around Spencer as they listened to the eerie chorus.

"You think they know something we don't?" Spencer wondered lightly.

"You mean like how to catch something _not_ growing out of the ground?" Ashley's smile was brief. "I'll find something tomorrow."

The brunette kissed the other girl on the temple as the wolves continued their dusk serenade.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

_Okay, tobaccoandpeppermint, are you, like, psychic or something? Creepy. Very, very creepy. But I love you anyway because you reviewed. Just like I love all my reviewers._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-two**

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Ashley awoke. The air was cold, and a dense mist blanketed the lake. Quietly, she dressed and gathered her supplies together. She knelt down next to Spencer and brushed a strand of hair out of the girl's face, pressing a kiss to her forehead. The sleeping blonde stirred.

"I'm going out," Ashley murmured in her ear.

When she received an acknowledging grunt in response, the brunette smiled and kissed her lover's cheek. Standing, she stepped outside into the haze. The fog did not weaken as she entered the forest. Instead, she was made to navigate through the ghostly silhouettes of trees as though through a dream. The familiar terrain was shrouded into obscurity, and Ashley found herself having to rely on her compass for the first time in many days.

The sunlight cutting through the trees did not help. In fact, the golden rays only worsened the brunette's visibility as each tiny particle of vapor reflected the morning light with a misty yellow glow. Anything farther than two arms' lengths was very nearly cloaked from sight, only dim outlines betraying their existence.

In other words, she couldn't see a possible target unless and until she was standing on it.

"And here I was hoping for a challenge," she muttered dryly.

On several occasions, Ashley would hear the sudden frantic rustle of leaves and flora as she unknowingly stepped too close to a rabbit or pheasant, startling them into flight. By the time she had her bow raised, though, the creature would be no more than a shadow vanishing through the mist. The fog did not begin to dissipate until the sun was above the tree line a couple hours later.

When she finally caught sight of a plump bird huddled in the grasses, Ashley raised her bow and took careful steps forward. Her eyes never left the pheasant. Holding her breath, she listened to the perfect silence surrounding her. She took one last step towards her prey.

A twig snapped beneath her foot.

The pheasant shot up in a panicked flurry. Ashley reacted on reflex, the tip of the arrow notched on her bow following the bird into the air. She let go of the string, releasing the arrow. The pheasant was too fast, however, and the wooden projectile sailed under the feathered creature by several feet.

She blew out her breath. "…because that would've been too cool…" A slump in her shoulders, she walked over to find her arrow. She hooked it back onto the bow string and continued her hunt.

A couple hours later, Ashley was staring at a rabbit sitting twenty feet away. Just staring. Possibly hoping to kill it slowly with the power of her icy stare.

No such luck.

Miniscule steps were taken, not forward but to the side, moving around behind the creature. She gradually closed the distance between it and herself as she moved. When she was directly behind the rabbit, still too far away, she positioned herself in line with a tree that hid her prey from view. Quietly, she inched her way up to the tree and peeked around the trunk. The rabbit had turned towards her a bit but hadn't otherwise moved. Practically hugging the tree, Ashley lifted her bow and aimed. Seven feet.

She slowly crouched down, putting one knee to the ground. She kept her arms steady and waited. The rabbit turned a hair more, presenting its full side to her. She released, watching as the arrow impaled the small creature through its midsection. Ashley leaned her head against the tree trunk, closing her eyes and letting out a relieved sigh.

* * *

Ashley walked back into camp a couple hours later, holding the rabbit up by its hind legs for Spencer to see. "It's small, but it's something." 

Spencer stood up from her task of cleaning the wild onions she had dug up and kissed the brunette on the cheek.

"Hey," Ashley pouted.

She tapped a finger to her own lips. The blonde laughed and corrected her gesture by kissing Ashley on the lips. The brunette's nose crinkled with her grin. She set down her bow as well as the backpack that held her arrows, the rifle, flare gun, and a few other supplies. She picked up their pan and started for the rock wall, the hunting knife still clipped to her belt.

"I'm going up to clean the bunny."

Ashley scaled the rocky ledges, walked along the stream to her work surface, and knelt down at the water's edge. The pelt was removed, cleaned, and set aside. The meat was stripped off, cut up, and dropped into the pan. After washing her hands and the knife, she walked into the trees to bury the carcass, leaving the blade at the streamside. She veered around a large pine, heading to their 'burial ground.'

She stopped dead in her tracks.

Less than six feet away from her was a hulking brown form digging into the ground with massive clawed paws. A broad snout was poking through the decayed remains of the various animals they had buried over time.

A tiny sound escaped Ashley's lips, and a round ear swiveled towards her. The digging halted, and the huge head turned. Dark brown eyes locked onto her small shaking figure, pinning her in place. A deep snarl erupted from behind long canines. Ashley's eyes widened, her throat constricted, her breathing stopped, her heart pounded, and her stomach dropped.

Ashley's eyes followed the form as it stood to its full height, eight feet and a half ton of muscle towering over her. How did she know these rough measurements? You'd be amazed what completely random and _useless_ facts run through your mind when your face to face with an eight foot, half ton, hungry grizzly bear. She dropped the rabbit carcass in her hand and took a step back, answered by an angry grunt. Ashley's mind raced, and to her horror, she could not form one single useful thought. Not one. Instead?

_A Baptist preacher was the first guy to distill bourbon whisky in the United States in 1789._

_The Egg McMuffin was invented by a guy named Ed Peterson._

_There are over two hundred kinds of chili peppers, and none of them are actually in the pepper family._

_On the new hundred dollar bill, the clock tower of Independence Hall shows a time of 4:10._

_A passionate kiss burns over six calories every minute. Workout of champions.  
_

And finally?

_What the fuck? Think of something helpful, Davies! _

…

_I'm so going to fucking die._

It wasn't until a second warning growl shook her from her trance that Ashley finally tore her gaze away from the bear's eyes to stare at the ground. Her feet carried her backwards in small steps. She was met with a thunderous roar. The bolt of panic that coursed through her clouded her judgment and hastened her steps. The bear dropped down to all four paws and started towards her. Just as the thought of slowing her movements to appease the bear crossed her mind, her heel connected with an unearthed tree root. With a yelp and arms flailing, she fell flat onto her back.

Damn those tree roots.

Another snarl shook her to her very soul, and the grizzly, a mere five feet away, charged forward. Ashley squeezed her eyes shut with a single lucid thought.

_I love you, Spencer._


	24. Chapter Twenty Three

_AHA! SUCCESS!_

_I apologize for the hiatus. I hit a writer's block in what will be Ch. 26, and let's face it: I have the attention span of a stick of gum.__ I strongly doubt I'll have the same steady posting schedule that I used to, but hopefully this chapter is enough to get me back on track._

* * *

**Previously...**

_I'm so going to fucking die._

It wasn't until a second warning growl shook her from her trance that Ashley finally tore her gaze away from the bear's eyes to stare at the ground. Her feet carried her backwards in small steps. She was met with a thunderous roar. The bolt of panic that coursed through her clouded her judgment and hastened her steps. The bear dropped down to all four paws and started towards her. Just as the thought of slowing her movements to appease the bear crossed her mind, her heel connected with an unearthed tree root. With a yelp and arms flailing, she fell flat onto her back.

Damn those tree roots.

Another snarl shook her to her very soul, and the grizzly, a mere five feet away, charged forward. Ashley squeezed her eyes shut with a single lucid thought.

_I love you, Spencer._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-three**

It was quiet.

The blonde sat with her head in her hands.

Vacant blue eyes were watery from ever-present tears.

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, but who could blame her?

A person she loved more than her own life was…

But she couldn't think about that.

It would drive her insane.

Too bad 'that' was all she _could_ think about.

If only she had gotten there a few minutes sooner…

Everything would've been okay.

And the person she loved more than her own life would be safe.

Safe.

Not hurt.

Not dying.

Not dead.

Safe.

_Riiiiiiiing_

Paula jerked up from her slumped position at the kitchen counter and frantically grabbed at the phone.

_Riiiii__—_

The receiver was barely at her ear before she spoke, weeks of desperation evident in her tone. "Hello!?" The stubborn glint of hope in her eyes quickly faded to their former emptiness as she listened to the voice on the other end. "No," was her simple response before she hit the 'Off' button and put the handset down.

No, she didn't want to switch phone services.

This had been going on for three weeks. Twenty-one days. Roughly five hundred hours. Ever since the private jet her daughter was on disappeared into the Canadian wilderness. Some days, she went to work (usually after being pushed out the door by Arthur). Other days, she sat at home waiting for the phone to ring. Actually, even if she was at the hospital, she was still waiting for the phone to ring.

The saying 'No news is good news' came to Paula's mind.

She loathed that phrase.

It was so completely false. No news meant that her little girl hadn't been found yet. When the daily (sometimes bi-daily or tri-daily) call from the search and rescue team did come in, it was either to tell her that they weren't having any luck or to assure her that every possible effort was being made or to ask her how she was 'holding up.'

She had begun to loath that phrase, too.

Three weeks of hearing it once daily (sometimes twice or thrice daily) will do that. Anyone with half a brain should know that she, a mother fearing for her child, wasn't 'holding up.' She was breaking down.

Three weeks before, when she realized Spencer had gone out without a word to her, Paula asked Arthur if he knew where their daughter was. The man wasn't a very good liar. She pestered her husband until he caved, revealing that Spencer was at the airport with Ashley. The two girls were about to board a private jet, leaving for Canada for the holiday weekend. At first, Paula was shocked into silence. Slowly, realization dawned on her and along with it, the kind of fear and paranoia that only a mother can feel. That gnawing in the pit of her stomach stemming from that sixth sense all mothers seem to have.

Her daughter was flying out of the country.

With Ashley.

_Ashley_.

The thorn in her side.

The bad influence that turned Spencer away from God.

One of the causes for Spencer's hurt and heartbreak over the summer.

The reason Spencer was on that plane in the first place.

While Paula would never wish harm on the young brunette, she couldn't help the blaze of resentment that burned in her, that had _been_ burning in her since the day the girl came into Spencer's life. Despite Arthur's protests, Paula had driven straight to the airport, but she was too late. The jet had already taken off. Hours later, the Carlin household received The Phone Call.

The plane had crashed.

The pilot had made a distress call mere minutes before all contact was lost. The engine had frozen, died, and the plane went down. Where? They weren't sure. It had flown off course and eventually, the tracking signal vanished. Again, Paula was shocked into silence when Arthur broke the news to her and Glen. Then, she buried her head against her husband's chest and cried while their son looked on in grief. The mother had already lost one of her sons; how could she bear to lose her daughter, too?

Glen became quieter in the following days. He had made an effort after the death of his brother, but now with his sister missing, it was as if the energy had left him. Even Arthur had lost much of his usual optimistic flare as he tried desperately to hold his crumbling family together.

As she stared at the phone sitting on the counter, Paula vaguely heard the front door open and close. Moments later, she felt the faraway touch of her husband's hand on her shoulder. Her wet blue eyes fixed on the crucifix hanging on the wall and, not for the first time, she prayed for the girls' safe return.

Not for the first time, she took back every hurtful thing she had ever said or done to both Spencer _and_ Ashley.

And, not for the first time, Paula vowed that Spencer was _so_ going to be grounded when she came back.

* * *

At that very moment, across town at the gym, a shirtless Aiden pounded pointlessly—I mean, persistently—on a punching bag. 

(a/n: Ha! Just kidding. Does anyone care what that tool is thinking? No, I didn't think so. Let's try that again.)

At that very moment, in the living room of the Davies estate, a lithe brunette held a yoga pose, nearly standing on her head. She was trying to clear her mind but to no avail. She had Ashley to thank for that.

Kyla huffed at her sister's impulsiveness.

The girl finally inherits the bulk of her money, and what does she do? She hops on a plane to Canada with her ex and gets herself stranded in the middle of the fricking wilderness for the past three weeks. How does Kyla know her sister is alive? Oh, she just knows. Ashley is too stubborn to die. It would probably cramp the young rocker's style or something.

The girl shifted positions.

That sister of hers had seriously messed up Kyla's chi with all the recent drama. Having to sit around all day, wondering what Ashley and Spencer were doing (probably each other), keeping her music down so she could hear if the phone rang. You know, in case her friends or her mom called or something. It's not like she waited night and day for word, for any smidgen of a hope, that her sister and friend had been found. It's not like she was worried. Nope. Not one bit.

King High had erected an addition to the prom shooting shrine for Spencer and Ashley. Students left flowers and candles and cards for the family every day, the same as they did for the victims of prom. Even Madison managed to express her concern, in her own bitchy way. Kyla personally thought all the hype was silly when it was only a matter of time before her attention-whore of a half-sister came waltzing back into L.A. with Spencer on her arm like she was Queen of the World. And then Ashley would get all this publicity, but she'd probably shrug it off like it was no big deal. Never mind the fact that she almost _died._ Never mind the fact that, despite what the older Davies daughter thought, there were people who cared about her and worried about her. Not that Kyla was worried.

All the actress could think was that that bitch better come back alive because when she did, Kyla was _so_ going to kill her.

* * *

_Author's note: __So, I'm getting sick, I'm doped up on cold medicine, and I might very well have butchered this chapter. It__ was a request from readers at the Spencer & Ashley Forum, and since I found its placement in the story __line __perfect (grins evilly), I decided to put it in.__ Raise your hand if you thought the blonde in the __beginning was someone other than Paula.__ Now raise your hand if you think Aiden should be six feet under__ and pushing up daises__. Sorry, anger issues. Speaking of:_

**Important Note: ****If you're not already aware of the situation with South of Nowhere, go to the Spencer & Ashley Forum—****spashley**** (dot) com—and read the bright red action thread. We need your support!**


	25. Chapter Twenty Four

_Warning for guts._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-four**

Ashley squeezed her eyes shut with a single lucid thought.

_I love you, Spencer._

A deafening crack sounded, echoing through the air, and the woods descended into eerie silence.

Recovering from the start the sound gave her, Ashley cracked an eye open. No brown wall of muscle loomed over her. In the back of her mind, she heard an object being dropped behind her. Lifting her head up, she strained to see what happened, having to raise herself up onto her elbows to get a better look. The large form of the grizzly lay slumped on the ground a mere four feet from her.

It took her several moments to register the hands on her shoulders and the body kneeling behind her. When she did, Ashley looked over her shoulder into Spencer's whitened face. Brown eyes drifted down to where the rifle was resting next to the blonde, then rose back up to meet frightened blue orbs.

"Ash, are you all right?" a shaky voice asked.

"Um…"

The brunette looked down at herself, taking mental stock of her condition. She didn't appear to be bleeding anywhere. Her rear end stung from when she fell onto it. She felt a prick in her back from where she must have landed on the corner of a rock. Her chest hurt from the incessant pounding of her heart, and her gut was swimming with adrenaline. Other than that, she seemed to be in one piece.

"…yeah," Ashley finally answered. "I think…I'm okay." She returned her gaze to the bear. The haze was clearing from her mind, and the shock was wearing off. "Holy shit." She whipped her head around to look at Spencer again. "Spencer…are _you_ all right?"

"Uh, maybe. I don't know yet."

"How did you…?"

"I heard…it. You…left the rifle down with me…I don't know, I just grabbed it and…came up here." The blonde was obviously still stunned.

"Good timing," the brunette croaked.

"Yeah…are you all right? Wait…we did you…"

Ashley nodded in dazed agreement. "We did me. I could…do _you_ again, if you wanted."

At long last, the spell broke, and Spencer gave a wane smile. "Seriously, Ash? Now?"

The brunette grinned. "Sorry. Just wanted to make sure your brain was functioning normally."

"Well, we know _yours_ is."

Ashley's smirk only widened. She abruptly reached her hand up and pulled Spencer's lips down to hers, kissing her firmly. "Thank you_. Sweet Jesus,_ Spence, thank you. You're my lifesaver."

Spencer hummed. "Does that mean you're going to suck on me all day?"

Ashley's jaw dropped. "_Spencer_," she gasped in mock horror. "…depends on what flavor you are. Cherry?"

Spencer waggled her eyebrows. "Butter Rum."

The brunette's mouth opened again, this time with a whimper of longing. "There _is_ a God."

The blonde laughed, then cleared her throat. "Yes, well…"

"Yeah." Ashley glanced at the bear. "I, uh...I think we solved our meat deficit."

"Yeah, but what are we going to do with it?"

"No idea…Whatever, I'm hungry. Let's get that bunny going."

* * *

The rabbit stew was simmering. Spencer was gazing across the lake. Ashley was fingering the hunting knife while staring up at the falls. 

"So, basically, we just need something to keep the meat in and somehow keep it cold."

"Right."

"All right, so we empty out the survival case. It's big enough, metal, probably airtight…"

"Airtight…" Spencer echoed, still staring at the lake. "Waterproof?"

"Maybe, why?" Ashley followed the blonde's gaze. "The lake water…"

"…is cold," Spencer finished. "And it's only getting colder. What do you think?"

Ashley grinned. "I think we have ourselves a refrigerator."

With the plan settling their minds, they ate their late lunch in peace. After the meal, they took the remaining supplies out of the survival kit and tested its seal by setting it in the shallows of the lake. They were pleased when no leaks were evident.

Along with the hunting knife and axe, the girls carried the case up to where the bear was. The rifle was also brought long to ease their newfound paranoia. The two of them together rolled the massive animal onto its side. Ashley slid the knife into the soft tissue of its abdomen and cut through fur and muscle from the bear's groin to its chin. A draft of heat met her, along with the poignant odor of blood and various internal…substances. The sheer volume of intestines that could be seen filling the bear's abdomen made Ashley cover her mouth with her hand, her face turning a greenish tint.

"Oh god, I think I'm going to gag."

Spencer didn't look much better. "You're fine with the bunnies and pheasants."

"That's because they're small and have limited…" she gestured at her stomach vaguely, "viscera. You know? You don't have to bury your entire arm in a rabbit to pull its guts out."

"Yeah…" Spencer patted Ashley on the shoulder. "Have fun with that."

The brunette caught her wrist before she could walk away. "Hey, you're helping with this."

"Ew."

"Unless you _want_ to eat tree bark."

"Looks more appetizing at the moment."

"Yeah, it does." Ashley shuddered. "Look, Spence, can you do me a favor and go dig a hole somewhere that I can dump all this crap in?"

"Sure."

Spencer picked up the axe to break up the hard ground with and disappeared into the trees. Ashley took several deep breaths before turning back to the gory sight. As an afterthought, she made a quick trip to camp to take a pair of latex gloves from the medical kit. She made it back just in time for Spencer to tell her the hole had been dug. The brunette slipped the gloves on and, holding her breath, pulled the mass of innards from the bear's inner cavity. She cut the ends to separate the bundle from the body. After following Spencer to the hole and burying the entrails deep in the earth, Ashley rinsed off her gloves and returned to their kill.

Unlike rabbits, the bear's hide did not pull easily away from the muscle. Rather, Ashley had to use the hunting knife to painstakingly cut it away inch by inch. It was over an hour before just that one side was folded back fully.

Spencer sat nearby, watching with a churning stomach. "If we want this meat preserved, we're going to have to get it smoking, like, now."

Ashley sighed as she stared at the large muscular animal. "Gonna be a long night."

"Very." The blonde stood up. "I'll get a fire going up here."

A fire pit was dug out, wood was carried up, and the cooking rack was set over a low flame. Ashley sliced the meat off the bear in individual steaks, handing them to Spencer to put on the rack. She started with the shoulder, then moved down the back muscle, and finally the rump. The cooking rack filled quickly, and the excess meat was stacked on foil packs until the first batch finished curing.

The sun had long since set by the time the one side of the bear had been stripped, forcing Ashley to work by firelight. She and Spencer rolled the beast onto its other side, and the brunette began the process all over again. The blonde continued tending the makeshift smoker, turning the steaks every so often. After about three hours over the small flame, Spencer cut into the meat and found it cooked all the way through. The cured steaks were put into the metal case, and a new stack was placed on the wire stand.

The hide was pulled completely off the carcass, and Ashley dragged it to the stream to wash off the dried blood and dirt. It was then stretched out in front of the low campfire to dry with whatever heat it could absorb. The temperature had fallen to a bitter chill, but they couldn't build up the blaze without charring the meat. Ashley was warm enough as she worked, but Spencer remained crouched in front of the flame, holding her hands out to its meager warmth.

Another hour, and the rest of the muscle had been removed from bone. As they waited for their abundance of meat to smoke, they both took a cooked steak to satisfy their growling stomachs. It was a luxury to be able to eat a large slice of red meat instead of the paltry slivers the rabbits had provided.

Ashley rolled her shoulders as she sat down next to Spencer, glancing at the pile of meat still needing to be cured. Her eyes traveled over to the small rack over the fire, then back to the meat. "Jesus, this is going to take us until morning."

The blonde leaned to the side and let her head fall onto Ashley's shoulder, mumbling some form of agreement. The brunette put her arm around Spencer's waist and kissed the crown on her head.

"Spencer…?"

"Hm?"

"…thank you. For earlier. You…you really…saved me…" Ashley finished in a whisper.

The blonde picked up her head and brushed a lock of dark hair from the girl's face. She placed a kiss on Ashley's temple and rubbed her arm. "Then consider us even for pulling me out of the plane."

"Well, I couldn't let you get blown up."

"Well, I couldn't let you get eaten."

Ashley smirked. "You know—"

"You can let some of them go," Spencer interrupted before her girlfriend could jump on the innuendo.

"Where's the fun in that?" The blonde smiled fondly, granting Ashley a peck on the lips before settling back down against her shoulder. "Tease."

"Sex addict," Spencer returned playfully.

"Only with you."

With a long night ahead of them, Ashley pulled the drying bear hide closer and began kneading the leather to softness. Spencer mimicked the motion, and the two watched the wispy tendrils of smoke rise from the fire. When finally the last of the meat was cured and packed away, the girls hoisted the case down the rock wall and submerged it halfway in the shallows of the lake.

Exhausted, Ashley and Spencer dragged themselves into the grotto and collapsed into bed just as the first rays of morning were coloring the sky. The two fell asleep the moment they were comfortable in each other's arms.


	26. Chapter Twenty Five

_There is a possibly upsetting (non-Spashley related) scene near the end of the chapter. I apologize in advance to those who are easily distressed._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-five**

Something was different. Slowly rousing from a deep slumber, she didn't know what it was, but something was definitely different. Not ready to open her eyes, though, Ashley snuggled closer to a very warm, very naked Spencer. As expected, a smile graced the brunette's face, especially as memories of the previous night's exploits replayed behind closed eyes.

Three days had passed since the bear attack. In those days, they had caught up on their sleep after the long night of meat smoking and dragged the carcass deep into the woods to leave it for the wolves. Spencer harvested a patch of wild onions and a large cluster of chickweed to store in the successful ice chest, and Ashley replenished their wood supply. The nights were spent in intimacy. Ashley's nearly fatal encounter with the grizzly had left both girls shaken and needing closeness.

The brunette nuzzled against Spencer's back and kissed the nape of the girl's neck. She milked a few more moments of comfort before begrudgingly pulling herself out of bed. Still half asleep, she put her clothes on. It was extremely bright outside, making Ashley squint. Nearly blinded, she stepped outside, hearing a soft crunch accompanying her footfall. Forcing her eyes open, she looked down. Then she dragged her gaze out towards the lake, brows drawn closely together in confusion.

"What. The. Fuck."

Everything was white.

Not like frost, where the world was tinted with a brush of silver.

No, this was _white_. Pure, thick, sparkling white. The ground was a blanket, quilted by the winding tracks of nameless creatures. The lake was a deep blue, a ring of silvery glaze along the shallows. The trees were covered with powder, every limb, every needle neatly coated.

When the sight of the freshly fallen snow began to sink in, she realized what had struck her as different. It was quiet. Almost eerily. When the occasional bird chirped, its call rang more clearly than Ashley ever remembered. The air itself had changed. It was absolutely clear. Every line of every tree, rock, and shrub was sharp, crisp. Too perfect to be real. Too precise to be a dream.

She turned back into the grotto. "Spencer?" No response. "Spencer." A grunt. "Spence, wake up. You need to see this." She knelt down next to the blonde and kissed her jaw. The younger girl whimpered, prompting Ashley to kiss her again, just beneath her ear. "Look outside."

Spencer reluctantly opened her eyes and craned her neck to look out the grotto entrance. She bolted upright with wide eyes. "What the…when did…what is…?"

"Three…excellent questions," Ashley agreed, shaking her head in wonder. "I think it might have snowed last night. Maybe. I could be wrong."

The brunette watched in amusement as Spencer hurriedly dressed and ran outside. The younger girl twirled around, her eyes sweeping across the suddenly wintry surroundings. In an almost childlike manner, she ran her fingers through the few inches of snow on the ground.

"Come on, Ash!"

"I prefer the warm dry look."

"Aw, come on!"

Ashley had to laugh at the look on Spencer's face. It was an odd mixture of a pout and a goofy smile. She wasn't all that surprised. The blonde had told her several times that she missed the winters back in Ohio. Why, Ashley didn't know. Snow was cold and wet and didn't really get along with Porsche convertibles. Or designer boots.

Spencer jumped over to an undisturbed patch of snow and fell onto her back, giggling quietly to herself. With a grin that could only be described as fond, Ashley walked over to the blonde, standing behind her head and staring down at her beautiful smiling face.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"It's fun, Ash. Try it."

"You want me to intentionally lie down in the cold wet sludge?"

"It's powder, Ash, not sludge, so get your butt down here and make a snow angel!"

"Why?"

"It's tradition." Spencer was met with a slightly raised brow. "It's the first snowfall. You have to make a snow angel."

"Is that an Ohio thing?" She couldn't help it. Ashley loved being obnoxious.

"No, it's not a_ country hick_ thing," the blonde answered with faux crossness. "It's a tradition that _your girlfriend_ wants _her girlfriend_ to participate in."

That brow inched up an aggravating fraction. "Meaning…"

"It would serve your best interest to humor me."

The trademark smirk appeared. "Or else…"

"I'm not putting out anymore."

"Ha! Right. We'll see how long _that_ lasts."

"Ass in the snow, Davies."

The smirk never left Ashley's face. "Yes, Miss Carlin."

The brunette plopped down next to Spencer, cheek to cheek and legs in opposite directions, and the two fanned their limbs out. Their arms bumped into each other, and they link their hands together. The sky was cloudless, and the sun provided a degree of warmth with its rays.

"Spence?"

"Yeah?"

"My ass is cold."

"And?"

"I'd like to go on record and say it's your fault."

"It's not my problem you're whipped."

"_I am not__** whipped**_!" Ashley denied incredulously.

Spencer laughed and rolled her head over to look at the brunette. "You are _so_ whipped, Ash."

"…am not…"

The blonde squinted at her girlfriend, her nose scrunching up. "Yeah, you are."

Sniffle. "…I hate you…"

Bright smile. "I love you, too."

"Bite me, Carlin."

"Maybe later." The blonde pushed herself to her feet. "I want to go for a walk in the snow."

The brunette pushed herself up onto her elbows. "You're a strange girl, Spence."

"I am not. I just like the first snowfall. Come with me."

Ashley stared up into blue eyes and sighed dramatically. "All right, fine. But only because I want to make sure you don't get eaten or something."

After admiring their interconnected snow angels, Ashley grabbed the rifle and flare gun, and they set out across the snow-covered land. Their fingers brushed and entwined at their sides as they walked. Their footprints mingled with the prints of the area's wildlife. Rabbit tracks were everywhere. They could see the paths of squirrels running from tree to tree. Stands of brush were accompanied by the indented prongs of pheasant feet. Dog-like paw prints lined either side of the stream and ventured into the woods where the burial site was. Evidently the wolves were scavenging closer than the girls had thought.

A set of deer tracks caught their attention. The girls walked along the trail of hoof prints, curious because it was the only sign of deer they had seen in the almost three weeks of their isolation. The path led Ashley and Spencer right up to the lake, far down the shore from their camp. The tracks then turned and headed back into the forest.

Though the air was cold, and the three-inch snowfall was gradually soaking through their shoes, they traced the deer trail for over an hour. Finally, they spotted the creature through the trees, its brown form making it stand out against the world of white. Ashley caught Spencer's gaze, her eyes flickering down to the rifle in her hand in silent question. The blonde shrugged, then nodded. Never waste an opportunity when stranded in the wilderness.

Making sure the rifle was loaded, the brunette inched closer to the deer, swinging around behind it. She kept a wide distance, the power of the rifle enough to make up for it. Lifting the firearm to her shoulder, she aimed just above where she thought the deer's heart would be. She steadied her breathing and pulled the trigger. The animal stumbled, its front legs folding under its own weight, but it did not collapse just yet. It staggered on its knees and tried to push itself upright even as it's strength waned.

Spencer covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh god…you missed the heart…"

Indeed, the bullet had missed its mark by more than an inch, entering the lungs. Blood could be seen seeping out of the animal's nose and mouth as it finally lurched onto its side. Coughing and snorting, the deer continued to struggle, craning its head up and pawing desperately at the ground in an attempt to stand.

Ashley watched the deer's flailing in horror. All of the other animals she had taken had died quickly and so she never really thought about it. This was something else. Something humbling. Distressing. Heartbreaking. Grim reality slapping them in the face. This was the price of their survival, and suddenly the rifle in Ashley's hand wasn't a blessing anymore. It was heavy. So heavy now. She didn't have to look to know Spencer was crying. She didn't have to because she felt the prick of tears in her own eyes.

With shaking hands, Ashley popped the rifle barrel open and loaded a new shell in. Snapping it shut, she took leaden steps towards the deer. The frightened creature thrashed even more with the approach of the human, but weakness ultimately took over. It laid its head down, watching Ashley with wide panic-filled eyes. Its limbs twitched. Its mouth hung open with gurgled panting. A blood-tinged tongue rested on the ground. With arms threatening to fall limp, Ashley raised the rifle, barrel pointed at the deer's head. Bottom lip trembling, she squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the trigger a second time, nevertheless flinching at the expected _crack_.

The animal's shuddering stilled, its suffering ended.

The echo of the gunshot died away, and Ashley turned her head away before opening her eyes. She heard a muffled sniffle behind her and knew Spencer was looking away as well. With a deep breath, the older girl set the rifle down and with it, her grief. She took the hunting knife from her belt, and got to work while Spencer stood mutely by. It was the only thing either could do. It was the only way they could survive.

The entire hide was removed first and spread out on the snow, hair side down. The slabs of meat, then, were set on top. When the task was done over a two hours later, the rifle was picked up, and each girl grasped a corned of the hide to drag the meat back to camp. A low fire was built, and the long process of smoking began yet again. For the time being, the bear hide was set out on top of the snow for them to sit on.

After having sampled the venison for an early dinner, Spencer looked over to see Ashley pinching the bridge of her nose. "Are you all right?"

"Just a headache."

The blonde scooted over to her and brought her fingers to Ashley's temples, rubbing in gentle circles. She could feel her lover relax after a few moments. "This helping?"

"Very much," Ashley murmured. "Thank you." The brunette leaned back against the larger girl and closed her eyes.

"You know, if you're tired, you should go get some sleep," Spencer said after a while.

"I don't want to just leave this for you to have to take care of."

"It's not like there's much to do, Ash. Really, it's okay."

Ashley hesitated. "You sure?"

"Yes. Go on."

To punctuate her point, Spencer gave the shorter girl a bit of a push to stand up. Relenting, Ashley gave her lover a kiss, uttered a goodnight, and disappeared into the grotto.

"'night, Ash," Spencer whispered.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six

_Grr. This is the chapter I got writer-blocked on, so I hate it. Mostly because it's taken me almost two months to write it. Grr. (Throws chapter to the ground and kicks it in frustration)_

_Yeah, so...reviewers, I love you all. Please keep leaving your feedback. I thrive on it. More specifically, my writing thrives on it, so keep it up.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-six**

With a sleepy smile, she snuggled against the warm body she was wrapped around. Her hand slipped under the hem of the other girl's shirt and traced idle circles across a smooth torso. Her face nestled into soft hair that filled her nose with the ever familiar, ever comforting, ever intoxicating scent of her lover. Lazily, she opened her eyes, immediately shutting them with a groan against the assault of bright morning sunlight filling the grotto. She slowly opened her eyes again, blinking away the irritation.

Carefully releasing her hold on the other girl, she sat up and stretched. That's when she noticed something: the sun had long since risen, and Ashley was still asleep. That didn't happen very often.

_Huh. That's weird. I'm never up before her..._ Spencer shrugged to herself and left the warmth of both Ashley and the sleeping bag. After getting a fire going, she took a quick shower under the falls. Shivering, she toweled herself off and dressed before trudging through the snow to the lake shallows. Opening the ice chest, she pulled out two pieces of deer venison.

Once the meat was cooking over the fire, Spencer ducked back into the grotto to grab her hairbrush and check on Ashley. The brunette was on her back, arm slung over her eyes. The blonde knelt down next to her and lightly caressed that arm.

"Sweetie, are you okay?"

"…head hurts…" came the low mumble.

"Still? I have some deer heating up. You think eating something might help?"

"'m not hungry."

Spencer gingerly took Ashley's wrist and lifted the brunette's arm away from her face. The normally bronze skin held a more pale tint. "How about some water?"

Brown orbs squinted up at her from behind narrow slits. A faint nod answered Spencer. Ashley raised herself onto her elbows and, with some effort, staring pushing herself to her feet.

"Ash, if you're not feeling well, you should rest."

The older girl shook her head. "I just need to get up and moving. I'll be fine."

Ashley dressed and dragged the bear hide out to sit in front of the fire while Spencer bottled some water from the falls. The blonde handed her lover the plastic container.

Ashley hissed after taking a drink and pressed a hand to her forehead. "Too cold."

Spencer cringed and took the bottle from the other girl. Pouring the water into the pan, the blonde set it on the rack over the fire. She took a moment to flip the meat over, as well. She sat next to Ashley and gently rubbed the her back. After several minutes, the water had warmed up.

"Better?" Spencer wondered as Ashley sipped gingerly.

The brunette merely nodded. Another longer drink, and Ashley traded the bottle for Spencer's hairbrush. Rising up onto her knees, she began gently running the bristles through her lover's still wet tresses.

The blonde sent her a sidelong glance. "What are you doing?"

"Foreplay." The jest was lacking Ashley's usual sultry flare, coming off as more weary than anything.

Nevertheless, Spencer chuckled. "Hottest. Foreplay. Ever."

"Who needs sex when there's raunchy hair brushing to be had?" the brunette returned languidly.

Spencer's smile held for another moment before fading. "You sound tired. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I guess I'm just feeling a little off."

"Eat something?" the blonde suggested again. "Maybe it'll help."

The brush in Ashley's hand paused mid-stroke as she contemplated. She relented with a shrug and continued her ministrations on her lover's hair. When the venison was ready, Ashley nibbled half-heartedly, causing Spencer to frown.

"Ashley—"

"I'm fine, Spencer," the brunette insisted. "Really."

Though unconvinced, the blonde reluctantly let it go. The rest of the morning, the girls worked at mundane chores like washing their cookware and clothes, later hand drying the damp clothing over the fire. In response to the prior day's snowfall, they fashioned a crude bench to sit on in front of the fire pit with a squat stack of firewood. Ashley's movements were sluggish to say the least. When the older girl finally admitted to feeling a bit lightheaded and queasy, Spencer started boiling a pan of water, adding small pieces of bear meat and chickweed for a bland soup. Subdued, Ashley ate what the blonde gave her, seeming content to sip the steaming broth.

"Spence?"

The younger girl looked up from the fire. "Hm?"

"Is it bad to feel dizzy sitting down?"

Concern immediately filled the blonde. "Ash, I really think you should go rest."

"No. Laying down is boring."

Refraining from a groan of aggravation, Spencer held the palm of her hand to Ashley's forehead. "You feel warm."

"That's 'cause I'm hot," the brunette replied with a wane smile. "Spencer, I don't…feel so good…"

"I know, sweetie. Let's get you…"

Spencer trailed off when she noticed Ashley swallowing several times in succession. Tiny beads of sweat had begun to coat the other girl's dark brow, and her already paled cheeks drained of color to near whiteness. The brunette hung her mouth open to pant with shallow breaths, closing her lips only for intermittent swallowing. Acting quickly, Spencer pulled Ashley to her feet and led her to the tree line. Seconds after pulling the girl's brown tresses back, Ashley's body gave two slight heaves before lurching forward to expel the contents of her stomach. Spencer rubbed her girlfriend's back and whispered soothing words in the lull until, less than a minute later, the process repeated. Ashley let out a whimper and slumped back against Spencer.

"Feel better?" the blonde asked after letting the brunette regain her bearings.

"…my mouth tastes nasty…"

"I'm sure." Spencer helped the girl to her feet and touched a hand to a now flushed cheek. "_Now_ will you go rest?"

After a bit of mild coaxing, the blonde managed to get Ashley to lay down. The brunette was stubborn even then, muttering curses about how she never gets sick, insisting it was just a fluke, and claiming she'd be one hundred percent in a couple hours. Spencer merely rolled her eyes and tucked Ashley into the sleeping bag, though she secretly hoped her lover was right.

She kept the leftover soup simmering and sat in front of the fire, completely and utterly bored. After about an hour, she began to develop a new appreciation for just how entertaining her dark-haired girlfriend could be.

Her gaze flickered over to the deer hide sitting on the opposite side of the fire pit, having been left out to dry from the previous night. It was a good-sized pelt with soft hairs and minimal damage. She and Ashley would surely be able to make good use of it. The most obvious idea she could come up with was a quiver for their arrows: a more secure method of carrying them than the oddly shaped backpack.

Just to kill time, Spencer mulled over other uses for the hide. A pillow sham. Gloves. A pair of boots. A leather bikini for Ashley and restraint cuffs for herself… _Wait, where did __**that**__ come from?_ Spencer wondered._ Damn, that girl is rubbing off on me._ Before she could resume her train of thought, the blonde heard her lover emerge from the shelter.

The brunette staggered off towards the trees but didn't quite make it that far. Her body rebelled again, expelling more of the day's meals onto the rocks. Spencer was at her side in seconds, holding the older girl upright. Ashley made a weak attempt to push the blonde away, but Spencer held her tight.

"It's okay. Let me take care of you."

"…don't want you to get sick," the brunette croaked out.

"I thought you _never_ get sick," Spencer teased lightly. She received a miserable groan in response. "If I haven't gotten your cooties by now, I think I'm in the clear."

This time, the blonde was rewarded with a tiny flash of a smile. When it was clear Ashley's stomach had settled, at least for the moment, Spencer led her back to the campfire and handed her the bottle of water to rinse her mouth out. Putting more wood on the fire, the blonde sat back and watched Ashley sip at her water with a careful gaze.

She had a bad feeling that this bug was far from over.

* * *

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	28. Chapter Twenty Seven

**Chapter Twenty-seven**

Ashley's condition worsened on into the night as Spencer kept constant attentiveness. 

The brunette cycled through relentless episodes of every misery. Her dizziness came and went, but her headache remained constant. Burning hot one minute, she would abruptly descend into fierce chills. Shivering and teeth chattering, not even the full blast of a roaring fire or drinking heated broth could warm her. Just as suddenly, then, the brunette would shy away from the flames as the heat overcame her again.

Ashley eventually went back inside to the grotto to lay down. Close to what Spencer guessed was midnight, a new phase of sickness began. As the older girl roused from restless sleep, her stomach rebelled again. With her lover's help, she barely made it to the trees before she was vomiting up the broth she had consumed earlier. Only, it didn't stop there. Nearly ten minutes of heaving every sixty to ninety seconds passed before the wave of nausea subsided.

With Spencer watching over her, Ashley sank into thirty minute intervals of blissful unconsciousness. Then, with the slightest stirring— sitting up to take a drink, turning onto her side, breathing too deeply—the nausea would return in force, and another ten minutes would be spent throwing up more water and bile than one would think was humanly possible. And each time, Spencer forced Ashley to drink a few ounces of liquid to curb the impending dehydration. After the fourth cycle, Ashley had become too weak to sit up on her own.

All the while, Spencer didn't sleep. She kept the fire going, a constant supply of purified water heating in the pot. With a dampened t-shirt, she gently washed the sweat from her lover's face as the girl rested, wiping down her arms and chest as well.

By the time the first rays of morning light began peeking over the horizon, Ashley had been passing in and out of delirium. It was mostly mild, made up of incoherent sentences about brownies, Porsche convertibles, and gophers. At one point, the brunette seemed to be having an argument with an illusionary Madison.

The worst came when Spencer moved to cleanse the girl's face again. The moment the damp cloth touched Ashley's face, her hand shot up and caught the blonde's wrist. The other hand soon followed, pushing Spencer away. The younger girl's attempt to calm her feverish lover only increased Ashley's panic. She lashed blindly out, pushing and clawing at Spencer, crying and screaming when the blonde hugged her tightly around her arms to restrain her.

Tears streaming down her face, the brunette finally ceased her struggling, slumping against her lover. With soothing murmurs and an unyielding embrace, Spencer helped ease Ashley out of the terror spell. 

The brunette gave a pitiful whimper. "'pencer…"

"Shh. I'm right here." 

Spencer pressed a kiss to Ashley's forehead, swearing quietly at how hot the girl's skin was. The fever was raging with a vengeance. Dangerously high, the blonde realized fearfully. Her mind raced. She knew she had to counteract the fever, and fast. With no form of medicine, the only thing she could do was manually cool Ashley's body. Without wasting another second, Spencer stripped the girl of her clothes and did the same to herself. Pulling the brunette to her feet, the blonde began guiding her out of the shelter.

The sick girl groaned as her bare feet plodded through the snow. "…what're you doing?"

"Well, weren't you the one who insisted on us skinny-dipping?"

Even in Ashley's state, she could still hear the poorly hidden worry in Spencer's joke. And even in her state, she still managed a chuckle. "…this_so_ doesn't count…"

As soon as the cold water of the lake washed over her feet, Ashley drew back and tried to squirm out of Spencer's grasp.

"Ash, please—"

"No," the older girl whined. "It's cold!"

The blonde held her firmly. "Ashley, we _have_ to break this fever."

The weakened girl didn't have the strength to protest as she was practically dragged into the lake. She clung to Spencer's neck as the cold water rose up to her shoulders, the frigidness only heightened by her fever-laced skin. The blonde dunked their heads under the surface for a brief instant, then waited until they were both shaking uncontrollably before helping Ashley out of the lake.

Not bothering to towel Ashley or herself off, Spencer sat the brunette down on the deer hide in front of the fire, pulling the giant bearskin around their cold, wet bodies. With the shivering girl huddled between her knees and tucked under her chin, the blonde rubbed her hands over Ashley's naked chest and arms in an effort to lessen the chill.

Slowly, the combined warmth of the fire, the fur hide, and their mingling body heat began to quell their shivering. When the girl in her arms stopped quaking, Spencer took to running a hand through Ashley's wet hair. Thankfully, the waves of nausea seemed to have died off, as had the delirium.

"'pence?"

"Yeah?"

"…tell me a story?"

"Tell you a story?" The brunette nodded against Spencer's chest. "Um, okay."

The blonde proceeded to weave a gripping tale of the illicit affair between two of their stuffed animals. One was the bear Ashley had gifted her, who had been given the name Amanda. The brunette's own bear had been named Gabrielle when she was younger. Apparently, Amanda and Gabrielle were the best of friends but also madly in love with each other. Sadly, they kept their feelings secret from the rest of the stuffed animals, confining their affections to the shadows as they feared their love wouldn't be accepted. They stole kisses when they were alone and held paws when no one was looking. In the company of others, they dared only to share lingering touches and long glances. When suspicions of the two bears' secret affair began to surface, the fairer-furred bear became frightened and distanced herself from her best friend, explaining that she couldn't deal with the ridicule. Heartbroken, Amanda the Bear went so far as to date Matthew the Baboon (another of Ashley's stuffed companions) to put all speculation to rest.

(The brunette scoffed at this part of the story. Spencer said she didn't understand it, either.)

Gabrielle the Bear was upset, to say the least. See, she used to date one of the G.I. Joe soldiers (Glen's, of course), but she broke it off with him because she was too deep in love with Amanda. Irate with jealousy over the younger bear's involvement with the baboon, Gabrielle the Bear confronted her former lover, demanding to know why she would date him.

'_He's dumb as a post and not even that cute_,' the older bear insisted.

'_Well, I would date __**you**__, but you won't say yes,_' the darker-furred bear retorted.

For months, the two females pushed aside their feelings for each other. Amanda the Bear focused her public attentions on Matthew the Baboon for the benefit of all the other animals, while the other bear put on a mask of happiness. Both, however, cried themselves to sleep every night.

(Ashley grunted her displeasure at the direction the story was taking, but Spencer assured her it would get better.)

Sinking deeper and deeper into depression in her empty relationship with the baboon, Amanda the Bear sought comfort from her best friend. Whether it was spontaneous or simply a matter of inevitability, the two bears consummated their love, Matthew and their friends be damned.

(The dark-haired girl stole a questioning—and slightly horrified—glance up at Spencer as the blonde gave a surprisingly detailed narrative of the sex between the stuffed bears.)

After their night of passion, the two were unable to pretend any longer, and Amanda the Bear broke up with her baboon boyfriend. Rumor has it, Matthew cried. Although Gabrielle was still unsure about making their relationship public, Amanda promised to never leave her side. As long as they had each other, nothing else mattered.

By the time Spencer finished her story, Ashley had fallen asleep against her chest, a tiny smirk on her lips. The blonde smiled reflexively and continued to run her fingers through her lover's dark tresses. Morning sunlight began filtering over the tree line, and the fire crackled on.


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight

**Important announcement****: Season 3B premiere has been pushed back to fall, so once again, I will make my shameless plug for SaveSpashley(dot)com. We need your help now more than ever. We will not be silenced. We will not take this insult laying down. We will instead strike back with everything we have. ****Please**** lend us your voice if you haven't already. SoN is Love. Spread the Word.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-eight**

Much to Spencer's relief, Ashley's fever had broken in the hours after the girl had fallen asleep. After waking, the exhausted brunette and the equally exhausted blonde shared another pot of soup. The older girl's headache faded, and she fell back asleep soon after.

Not willing to lower her guard in case Ashley had another flare-up, Spencer looked for tasks to keep herself awake. With her lover curled up comfortably in the bear hide, she gave the sleeping bag a much needed washing under the falls to cleanse it of the sweat and grime from Ashley's sickness. Wringing out the moisture as best as she could, she draped the sleeping roll over one of the rock ledges and out of her way. 

With the deerskin no longer being sat on, Spencer decided to act on her idea of an arrow quiver.

Needing only half the hide, she sliced across its width with the hunting knife and set one section aside. She rolled the other portion into a tube with the hair on the outside, figuring this would provide some degree of water resistance. Using the tip of the knife, she punched holes through the leather along the connecting edges. A length of gauze roll from the first aid kit was threaded through the holes and tied off. On the bottom of the tube, she cut two small slits, one up either side. She folded the two opposing flaps up to close the end, punched a few more sets of holes, and stitched the edges shut.

After a few minutes of deliberation, Spencer ducked into the grotto to detach the shoulder strap from the tent pack. Creating two more holes, she clipped the strap onto each end of the leather case. Satisfied with her handiwork, she collected their bundle of flighted arrows and slid them into the quiver.

"Perfect."

When Ashley awoke, her strength had somewhat returned, and she was ready to eat something with a little more substance than soup broth. Two steaks of deer venison were soon cooking. Laying on her side, remaining snug in the warmth of the bearskin, the still recovering brunette watched Spencer with a strange little smile.

The blonde caught her stare. "What?"

"I was thinking…you should write children's novels."

"And you're basing this off of what? My explicit recounting of the forbidden affair between two stuffed animals?"

Ashley seemed to give it a bit of thought before offering a firm nod. "…yes."

Spencer smirked and shoved a venison steak into the girl's hands. "Shut up and eat that."

The brunette mirrored the smirk. Hunger satisfied (and still contentedly naked), Ashley pulled a reluctant Spencer down into the folds of the bearskin. She divested the blonde of her clothing—which had at some point materialized on her form, the brunette noted in disapproval—and snuggled up against her back.

"You need to rest now," Ashley murmured, dropping kisses onto Spencer's bare shoulder.

Any thought of protest in the younger girl's mind flew out the window as she seemed to melt into the warmth of the thick fur blanket and Ashley's body pressed up against hers. Her eyelids grew heavy, and the gentle caresses of the brunette's fingers across her stomach lulled both girls to sleep.

* * *

The rest of that day and night passed in the realm of dreams, where the girls only woke for a meal or other necessities. As evening came upon them, they moved back into the grotto, using the bearskin in place of the still damp sleeping bag.

It was two more days before Ashley was back to one hundred percent health. Her dehydration, muscle weakness, and bile-burned sore throat were resolved with regular meals, frequent liquid intake, and strict bed rest. Spencer had been coerced (read: dragged willingly) into partaking in the latter by the brunette's insistent pout. When asked why, Ashley gave a cheeky smile and a simple response.

"Hey, if I'm going to be stuck in bed, I want to be stuck in bed with my hot girlfriend."

The blonde's retort was equally sassy. "Still as one-track minded as ever, huh? Good to know the fever hasn't caused any brain damage."

The girls spent those two days of bed rest comfortable in each other's arms and more often than not, nude (who needs clothes, really?). They shared idle chitchat of the mundane, serious discussions about the world, and deep conversations about their lives. They played Anywhere but Here, made up word games, and delved into the continued adventures of Amanda and Gabrielle. They exchanged loving caresses and tender kisses throughout, never tiring of each other's company.

When finally neither could stay idle any longer, they both dressed (with Ashley grumbling complaints about the necessity of clothing) and stepped outside into the morning air…

…then jumped right back into the grotto with an exclamation from Ashley. "_Jesus,_ it's cold!"

The temperatures had been dropping in the last week but evidently, they had plummeted the previous night. 

"How can it be this cold? Isn't it not even October yet?"

Spencer shrugged. "Early winter?"

"…fucking Canada…"

The ring of ice around the edge of the lake was even more pronounced, and the waterfall seemed to have lost a certain degree of its flow. Their best estimate? The temperature had fallen to single digits. A cold wind blew directly into the grotto, its icy hand slapping them in the face, bringing another problem to their attention: below-zero wind chills.

The two girls exchanged telling looks. 

This was bad.

Their meager hoodies weren't going to cut it anymore.

The grotto had protected them this far, but with nothing to stop the harsh chill from seeping in, it wouldn't be enough for long.

Ashley sucked in a breath (almost choking on the frigid air invading her lungs), and blew it out in a curse. "Well, shit. You see what happens when you make me stay in bed for two days? The world retaliates. It doesn't like being deprived of my utter hotness."

Spencer rolled her eyes. "I don't remember you complaining much in the last forty-eight hours."

"You were naked," Ashley defended. "It was mentally incapacitating, therefore impossible for me to complain."

"And whose fault is that?"

"It's _not_ my fault you have a nice body. _Nor_ is it my fault that _my_ incredibly hot body fits so well with yours."

With a soft smile, Spencer squeezed the brunette's hand. The light mood changed with a gust of wind. "What should we do?"

"No idea." Ashley ran a hand through her hair. "All right. Simple things first. Firewood's getting low."

"Sleeping bag needs to be, uh, thawed."

"It's fucking cold."

Spencer snorted. "You're going to need my sweatshirt when you go out."

"And you're going to need a fire close by when you stay in."

"So…we make a second fire pit right at the entrance."

Together, they hauled rocks up from the lake shore to make a half-ring on the stone ground against one corner of the grotto entry. A handful of dried leaves and grass from their pre-snow stockpile was lit beneath a few sticks of wood, and the blaze was gradually built up. The fire's placement seemed to find a perfect balance between smoke ventilation to the outside and heat permeation into the shelter. The sleeping bag—half frozen from its 'drying' time on the rock ledge—was brought back inside. Spencer's hoodie was stripped off and soon replaced over Ashley's own.

Picking up the axe, the brunette gave her lover a one-armed hug. "You sure we can't stay naked?" she murmured in the blonde's ear.

She was rewarded with Spencer's trademark head tilt and eye squint. "I'd take it over the cold any day. But…"

"But," Ashley repeated with a sigh. Shouldering the axe, she set out to accomplish the chore of wood chopping. Unfortunately, it seemed Mother Nature was against her. 

As soon as Ashley stepped back out of the shelter, the first of many snowflakes hit her nose.

"Fuuuuck."


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine

**Chapter Twenty-nine**

Generally speaking, air temperatures rise as the day progresses towards the afternoon.

Such was not the case.

For Spencer and Ashley and their unfortunate imprisonment in the Canadian wilderness, the already frigid temperature continued to fall as morning transitioned into midday. There wasn't even the slightest hint of sun in the sky, and an occasional zephyr of arctic wind didn't help.

On top of all that, it was snowing.

Not blizzard conditions, but not a light dusting, either.

Two sweatshirts on and hoods drawn up, Ashley swung her axe into the trunk of a pine sapling down the lakeshore from the waterfall. Having never felled a tree before, she didn't exactly know what she was doing aside from hacking into the same spot over and over with the sharp end of the axe.

After a good twenty minutes, the gouge in the trunk had become deep enough to make it harder for the axe head to connect smoothly with the core. Ashley shifted her aim to the very corner of the gap she had created and gradually chopped her way through the wood again. After an hour, she had carved a deep groove more than halfway around the six-inch trunk, and still the tree stood.

With a frustrated growl, Ashley pushed on the trunk. The wood groaned and creaked. Pushing again, the treetop began to sway. Throwing her entire weight against the trunk, the wood bent, cracked, and splintered. Aided by a gust of wind, gravity finally won out, sending the sapling crashing to the ground.

Ashley let out a self-satisfied grunt.

In the midst of admiring her handiwork, she was distracted by the smell of cooking venison drifting down from camp. Her stomach promptly alerted her to her hunger. Happy to take a break, she returned to the grotto for a much needed meal.

As she ate, Ashley noticed that Spencer had been busy as well. A large section of the bear hide was being transformed into a simple jacket. The remaining deerskin had been cut into thin strips to eventually sew the sleeves on and make a front tie closure.

"You are so awesome," the brunette praised as she examined the incomplete project.

"I know."

"You are the Martha Stewart of survival fashion, except way younger and hotter and without all the corporate fraud."

Spencer rolled her eyes. "Ash, you sweet talker."

"Although, I have to say, I'm going to miss spooning with you in the hide. That fur was pretty damn cozy."

"Well, you could always go wandering through the woods and see if another bear comes along…"

"What am I, a sacrificial lamb?"

"No, you're bait. We've had this discussion, remember?"

"Yes, but that was with fish, not an eight-foot grizzly that could rip my head from my body."

Spencer shrugged casually. "Oh well. Suit yourself."

As their banter-filled brunch ended, Ashley dragged herself out into the cold again, trudging through the flurry of snow back to the fallen tree. The pine branches were hacked off and tossed aside. Excruciating hours were spent sectioning the trunk into manageable pieces. Placed upright on their ends, the squat logs were then not-so-expertly halved. Her fingers began to burn from the cold, and her toes grew numb, but she worked through her discomfort.

Once the trunk was taken care of, Ashley began carrying the firewood back to camp. On her first trip into the grotto, she noticed Spencer rubbing her shoulder with a grimace.

"What's wrong?"

"My shoulder hurts. I don't think the cold agrees with it."

Setting her armload of wood down at the back of the shelter, the brunette knelt down in front of the other girl. Using two fingers, she pulled the collar of Spencer's shirt down and pressed her lips to the angry scar still marking the blonde's shoulder. Seeing the happy smile light up Spencer's face, Ashley gave her a lingering kiss on the mouth.

"Mm, your lips are chapped," the blonde teased, running her thumb over the dry skin.

"It's too damn cold," the brunette whined. "And idiot that I am forgot to pack my moisturizing balm."

Ashley stood up to return to her task, but Spencer grabbed her hand. "The jacket's done."

Grateful to strip off the snow-soaked sweatshirts that had begun refreeze in the cold, the brunette slipped the new article of clothing on. She was immediately comforted by the thick fur lining.

Spencer smirked. "You know, you're kinda hot decked out in dead bear."

Ashley grasped the blonde's chin and brought their faces close together. "Just wait until we get home. I'll show you my _real_ leather collection."

"Mm, god," Spencer moaned into Ashley's mouth as the brunette kissed her deeply.

With a sultry smile, the older girl headed back out into the snow. Although the bearskin jacket was a godsend, her shoes were still sodden, and her hands remained subjected to the freezing air. She worked as quickly as she could to get all the wood transported to the shelter, but the large stock made for a long run of trips back and forth.

By the time she made her last round, the brunette's fingers, toes, ears, and face were half numb, half burning painfully from the chill. Shaking out her wet hair, she removed her jacket, shoes and socks, and collapsed onto the sleeping beg next to Spencer with a whimper.

"Ow. My fingers and toes are killing me."

The blonde took Ashley's hands into her own and looked them over. She frowned at the fingertips' whitish hue. "That's probably because you're getting frost nip."

"What the fuck is frost nip?"

"The lesser brother of frost bite?"

"The Little Nipper, huh?" Ashley deadpanned.

Despite her concern, the blonde couldn't help a chuckle. "You think you're funny, don't you?"

"Yep."

Spencer grinned bittersweetly and picked up one of Ashley's hands. She kissed the back of it once. "Sweetie?"

"Yeah?"

She kissed the brunette's hand a second time. "If you end up getting bad frost bite, your fingers are going to fall off."

Ashley's eyes went wide. "But…but I need them." The younger girl nodded patronizingly. "My multiple talents lie within these fingers. I'm nothing without them."

"Then don't go back out into the cold today, okay? Just stay in front of the fire."

"Okay, Spence? I can totally think of a better place to warm up my fingers."

"You're such a horndog."

The brunette wagged her eyebrows, causing Spencer to laugh. "Yeah, but you love me for it."

"I love you in spite of it," the blonde corrected with a smirk. "Tomorrow, I'll try to make some kind of boots with the rest of the hide."

"Okay," Ashley murmured, cuddling into Spencer's lap with her feet in front of the fire. The younger girl gently encased her lover's frozen fingers between her hands and blew on them a few times to warm them up. A cold draft invaded the grotto, making the fire waver and both girls groan.

"Goddamn…don't they have doors in this place?"

"Guess not."

"Well, that's just going to have to change."

Ashley pulled the other girl down to lay on her back, hooking a leg over her lover's and hugging Spencer's body tight against her own. Her face burrowed into the blonde's neck. Spencer threw a questioning glance down at the girl that was currently molded into her side.

"And this is your way of fixing the no-door problem?"

"I didn't say right _now_," the brunette mumbled against warm skin. "Now is snuggle time."

"You always think it's snuggle time."

"Is there something wrong with wanting to snuggle with a hot chick?"

"Only the fact that you just called me a chick."

Ashley propped herself up onto her elbows and stared down at Spencer with a pensive expression. "You're right. You don't fit the profile of 'chick.' You're not…"

"Whorish enough?"

"I was going to say ditzy, but yeah. You're more of a…minx."

"I'm a minx?" the blonde questioned incredulously.

"Would you prefer kinky sex kitten?"

"Um, I think you have us confused. I do believe _you're_ the kinky one."

"I am?"

"I seem to recall you mentioning something about a leather collection?"

"And I seem to recall a sexy little moan in response," Ashley retorted playfully.

"It's kinda hard not to moan when you kiss me like that."

"Well, it's kinda hard not to snuggle when _you_…look like _that_."

"So, I guess we're even then."

"I guess so."

"Great."

"Perfect." Ashley settled back down, face against Spencer's neck. "My lil' sex kitten."

The blonde groaned as her lover snickered. "Whatever, pookie."

Ashley squeezed the girl's hip. "Ha. I win." Beat. "…wait, _pookie_?"

This time, it was Spencer's turn to snicker.


	31. Chapter Thirty

_Wow, Chapter Thirty. The beginning feels like ages ago, and it hasn't even been four months. I'm not going to lie: this story has taken a lot out of me, and I'm looking forward to finishing it so I can move on to my next Spashley project. Don't get me wrong: I love Lifeline, but it's close to having run its course. Right now, it's looking like there are going to be ten more chapters after this one, forty chapters total. We're almost to the final stretch!_

_As always, I love each and every one of my reviewers. You guys make the world go 'round. Now, on with the show! In addition to two _Friends_ references, I made a cheap _The L Word_ reference, too._

* * *

**Chapter Thirty**

The snow had stopped by the following day, but it was no less cold. As promised, Spencer worked on fashioning coverings for their shoes with the remnant bearskin. She folded the piece of leather around her own foot to form the crude mold. When she ran out of deer hide strips to stitch with, she resorted to cutting up the t-shirt ruined in the crash when the tree branch went through her shoulder.

Ashley, meanwhile, dragged the lot of pine boughs from the felled tree to camp. The branches were going to be fed to the fire, but seeing the way several of them tangled together gave the brunette an idea. Sitting by the primary fire pit, she meticulously interwove the pliable limbs with one another. When she had completed a line of about half her arm-span that seemed to stay intact fairly well, she continued by adding a second row. The flames kept her hands warm as she toiled into the afternoon, adding more boughs to the pine tapestry.

When the creation became almost two feet longer than she was tall, Ashley decided it needed to be thickened. She left camp just long enough to harvest a number of larger, sturdier pine branches. When she returned, she integrated the new boughs into the others, keeping the broader ends facing the four corners.

Satisfied, she poked her head into the grotto. "Hey, Spence, you got a second?"

"Yeah, hold on. I'm almost done."

Kneeling down, Ashley waited patiently as the blonde finished the last stitches on her project. A few minutes later, Spencer proudly held up the irregularly-shaped pair of shoe coverings.

Ashley choked back a laugh. "They look funny."

The blonde deflated a bit. "I'm not exactly a cobbler, Ash."

"Mm, cobbler."

"Not that kind, dummy."

"Hey!" The brunette pouted. "I was picturing you as a peach cobbler…and I was going to eat you…"

Spencer smacked her on the arm. "So dirty."

"But not without a certain charm."

The blonde considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Very true. You're not without a certain _obnoxious_ charm."

"But charm nonetheless."

"Could your ego get any bigger?"

"I don't know…why don't you stroke it a little more and see what happens?"

"Is that code for something, Miss Davies?"

"It is if you want it to be."

Spencer pulled her lover closer and let their noses brush. Then, just as the brunette leaned in for a kiss, the she murmured a question. "What did you want help with?"

After a groan of frustration, Ashley stood up. "An erection." At the other girl's withering glare, she elaborated, her voice dripping with fake exasperation. "Of the _door_, Spencer. _God_."

The blonde rolled her eyes, mouthing the word 'door' with a set of air quotes. Ashley nudged her with a foot, prompting Spencer to climb to her feet. Once outside, the two girls carried the sheet of pine branches over to the grotto entrance and tipped it so that it stood upright against the rock face. The makeshift door completely covered the opening with plenty of room to spare.

"Magnificent," Ashley drawled smugly.

Spencer tilted her head as she scrutinized the creation. "It's lopsided."

The brunette's face fell. "Shut up. _You're_ lopsided."

With an indignant whine, the offended girl smacked her in the stomach. "I am _not_ lopsided."

"Um, ow? Jeez, you're violent today."

"You made fun of my boots _and_ called me _lopsided_."

"Yes, but I also offered to eat your peach cobbler _and_ let you stroke my ego."

"Wow, you really know how to woo a girl," the blonde snorted. She crouched down in the snow. "Really, I'm honored."

"Obnoxiously charming, remember?"

"Oh, I remember."

With that, Spencer stood and dropped the snowball she had discreetly formed on Ashley's head. The brunette's mouth fell open as cold chunks of compacted powder tumbled down her curls and off her shoulders.

"Oh, _hell_ no." Huffing, Ashley grumpily brushed the snow from her body. "You are _so_ dead, Carlin."

As she bent down to pack her own ball of snow, Spencer shrieked and ran the opposite direction. The brunette was quick enough to nail her square in the back, though, leading to several more handfuls of snow being volleyed back and forth. Finally, the older girl barreled forward and straight into a still-squealing Spencer, tackling her to the ground. Mid-descent, Ashley twisted them around to take the fall on her back and save the blonde's shoulder from impact. Spencer landed on the brunette's chest, wrapped protectively in her arms.

Laughing, the blonde looked down at Ashley, who sported a wide grin. Cradling the brunette's face in one hand, Spencer dropped her head to cover her lover's mouth with her own. When she pulled back, the smile worn by the girl under her had grown softer. Ashley lifted her chin to recapture Spencer's lips, her hand tangling in blonde hair to keep them pressed together.

Needless to say, not much got done the rest of the evening.

When morning broke, Ashley stepped out of the shelter with a content stretch (and a noticeable afterglow). Very abruptly, she became of aware of one glaring fact; the waterfall, while not completely frozen, was far too cold against the frigid air temperature to shower under. Discouraged, she filled their pan to the brim with water and set it over the fire. Muttering curses about the indecency of Canada's lack of hygiene-friendly facilities, she waited for the liquid to heat, huddled in the bearskin jacket and boots.

When the water began to simmer, she did her best to cleanse herself, finishing by pouring the warmed water over her head to wash out her hair. It was actually rather pleasant for her—if inconvenient—as it was the closest to a hot shower she'd had in weeks. Brushing through her brown locks, she dried herself by sitting as close to the flames as she dared.

Spencer was awake, she knew, but the blonde had yet to emerge from the grotto. Deciding to check on her, Ashley ducked into the shelter. Her girlfriend was laying on her back, eyes closed and hands folded on her stomach as she put off having to get up.

Lowering herself next to Spencer, Ashley gave her a peck on the cheek. When the blonde didn't respond, she kissed her cheek a second time, a little bit longer. With still no reaction, she kissed Spencer once again, this time with a flick of her tongue.

The younger girl finally cracked an eye open. "Yes?"

Ashley donned a goofy smile. "Happy _plane_-iversary."

Spencer sat up, followed by the brunette. "Plane-iversary? Really?" she questioned skeptically.

"Well, it sounds cooler than 'happy one month anniversary of the day our plane crashed and our world went all to hell.'"

"Cooler, huh?"

"Yes. And we need to celebrate our successful month of survival."

"And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Through the physical act of love."

"Why am I not surprised?" Spencer muttered. "What is it with you and _Friends_ references today?"

Though slightly put off by her lover's less than cheerful tone, Ashley attempted to ignore it. "There are no appropriate _Buffy_ references."

"Ah."

"So, what do you say?"

"I hate to burst your bubble, but it hasn't been a month."

"It's been twenty-eight days."

"With the exception of February, twenty-eight days does not constitute a month. Not only is it not February, but February is a stupid month anyway."

"Or February is really smart, and all the other months stupid because one month has four weeks, seven days to a week," Ashley argued. "I do believe that makes twenty-eight days."

"In a perfect world."

The older girl drew back, confused and a little hurt by Spencer's apathy. "What's with you?"

The blonde met her gaze. "What?"

"You're being all nitpicky."

"I'm _nitpicky_ now?"

"Uh, _yeah_," the brunette confirmed.

"It's not my fault a standard month is considered to be thirty days!"

"Yeah, except for the fact that more than half the months out of the year have thirty-_one_ days in them. And don't even get me started on leap year."

"Doesn't matter." Spencer crossed her arms. "We're not celebrating because it hasn't been a month."

"What is your trauma? Is it really that big a deal?"

"Yes, because I know when I'm right and you're wrong, which, by the way, is more often than not."

Ashley's expression emptied of emotion, and her tone fell flat. "…I hope you bleed soon, Spence. I really do."

That little remark earned her a scathing glare, but the brunette had already gotten to her feet. She picked up the bow and quiver of arrows, swinging them over her shoulder. She also clipped the hunting knife onto her belt.

"I'm going out."

Spencer softened a fraction. "Ash, don't be like that."

"No, you know what? You obviously need your space, and now I kinda do, too, so…"

With that, Ashley walked out. She trekked into the woods for the first time in what felt like a long time. She wasn't looking for anything. She simply needed to walk, and the relative quiet of the forest was calming. There was the occasional call of a bird. The trickle of the stream. The intermittent rustle of tree branches. The muffled sound of small heaps of snow falling off the limbs and hitting the ground. A squirrel chattered in a nearby birch. A rabbit chewed on a stand of brush.

When she grew tired of walking, Ashley sat down in the snow with her back to a tree. The sun was still hiding. In fact, if it was possible, the cloud cover seemed to thicken as the day wore on. Even so, it was warmer than the days prior. Not by much but just enough to make it slightly more bearable. As her eyes roamed over her white surroundings, her mind wandered over the morning's argument compared to the previous night. The sudden difference was a bit of a shock to her system.

In reality, though, she wasn't surprised. They had been stuck together without break for a month (twenty-eight days, whatever), so they were bound to have a bad day sooner or later. What she didn't expect was for it to be _Spencer_ that cracked first, especially not after a night like they had just shared. Usually, Ashley was the one to push away first.

Maybe the blonde found it hard to accept that they've been trapped for (almost) a month. Maybe she was suffering an unfortunate mood swing. Or maybe she was simply tired. Ashley could understand that.

Didn't mean it didn't still hurt.

When her rear end had become thoroughly numb from the snow, Ashley pushed herself to her feet. Picking up the bow and quiver, she started back. When she was within sight of camp, she saw Spencer outside, sitting in front of the fire. The blonde looked up at her as she approached, but Ashley just walked past her into the grotto. As she set her stuff down, she heard Spencer come in behind her.

"Yes?" the brunette prompted, still facing away.

When the blonde didn't answer, she held in a sigh and turned to meet her girlfriend's gaze. Spencer sheepishly held out a folded piece of paper from the other girl's music notebook.

"Happy plane-iversary."

"It hasn't been a month yet," Ashley retorted bitterly.

"I'm sorry. I woke up a little cranky," the blonde smirked half-heartedly, "and you received the benefit of it."

Ashley rolled her eyes at the familiar words, responding with the obligatory, "Lucky me." She unfolded the piece of paper. Inside was a doodle of a simple flower with 'S heart A' scribbled underneath it. The brunette finally cracked a smile, shaking her head with a quiet chuckle. "You're such a dork, Spence."

The blonde grabbed her hand and swung it from side to side. "But I'm _your_ dork."

Letting the paper float to the ground, Ashley gently grabbed her chin with her now free hand. "Wouldn't have it any other way." She gave Spencer a light peck on the lips. "Just promise me that next time you'll tell me if you need space, okay? I know I'm not exactly the queen of communication or anything, but it would really be nice. I don't like arguing with you."

"I'd be the first."

"Bite me." On cue, Spencer took their interlocked hands and nipped the brunette's fingertip, while the older girl just grinned. "You're lucky I like you."

"I'm a very likeable person."

Bending down, Ashley picked up the card and looked at the drawing again, trying unsuccessfully to disguise a smirk. "You know, if I had a refrigerator, this would _so_ go up on it. My lil' Spencey Wencey."

The blonde poked her in the arm. "Made you forgive me, though." When the brunette shook her head, Spencer raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"Didn't have to. Nothing to forgive."

"Aw, Ashy…"

Ashley raised a warning finger. "Don't."

The blonde pouted beautifully. "Okay…pookie."

"Spence, promise me you'll _never_ call me that in front of people?"

"Only if you promise not to call me 'sexiliscious' in front of people."

"That was one time!"

"In front of my parents!"

"Totally an accident."

Spencer rolled her eyes. "Whatever, pookie."

"Seriously, only you could get away with calling me that."

"Must be why you love me," the blonde guessed with a shrug.

Ashley smiled in agreement. "Must be."


	32. Chapter Thirty One

**Chapter Thirty-one**

_One, two, three._

Ashley hated Nature.

_Seven, eight, nine._

Any doubt in her mind after years of thinking, 'Fresh air is nice' or 'Look at the cute little squirrel' or 'Ooo, trees are pretty' had been pretty well demolished at this point.

_Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen._

Was it because a cold front froze their plane's engine and brought them to their unfortunate predicament that led to this absolute hatred? Oddly, no.

_Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two._

How about the tree that impaled her girlfriend? No.

_Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one._

Was it a sentiment arisen from almost being eaten by a bear. _Very_ surprisingly, no.

_Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight._

The absence of civilized hygiene and entertainment? Again, no. After all, she couldn't _really_ blame the backwards, underdeveloped, tree-hugging, hippie nation of Canada for its lack of plumbing and electricity, could she?

_Forty-four, forty-five, forty-six._

Was it the freezing cold? Closer, but still no.

_Fifty, fifty-one, fifty-two._

How about the fact that even though she was stuck in the middle of Nature, she couldn't actually go out and 'enjoy' it (for lack of a better term)? Ding. We have a winner.

_Fifty-nine, sixty, sixty-one._

See, she and Spencer had woken up earlier than usual that morning for whatever reason, leaving them not as rested as they should have been. So, after their morning ritual of breakfast and 'hot showers,' the two girls decided to nap for a few more hours.

_Sixty-six, sixty-seven, sixty-eight._

And what did they wake up to early that afternoon?

_Seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five._

Ashley paused her mental count, falling flat onto her back. "Fucking Canada and its fucking mood swings."

Two words: 'Freezing Rain.' 'Ice Storm.' 'Bad Fucking Weather.' Okay, so that was actually seven words, but still.

Spencer, from her position kneeling on the brunette's feet, poked her lover in the stomach. "Hey, you still have twenty-five more to go. Get your ass moving."

With a grunt, Ashley resumed her sit-ups (you think she gets those abs from having sex and spouting sarcasm?). It's not like she had anything better to do, what with the torrent of rain pounding the earth outside, turning to ice on impact. The bright side? Their door worked, keeping the wind and freezing elements from creeping into their shelter. The not-so-bright side? They couldn't have the secondary fire going while the door was in place.

When she had completed her hundredth sit-up, Ashley let herself go limp. "This sucks."

Spencer crawled off her feet to sit next to her. "You need to stop whining."

"_Canada_ needs to stop _PMS-ing_ all over us."

The blonde just chuckled. With the cold still bothering her shoulder, Spencer decided to teach Ashley how to do passive range of motion exercises for her. She had learned it from Paula when Glen was recovering from his torn ACL. As both sat comfortably, Ashley merely had to cradle Spencer's left arm and rotate it slowly around the shoulder joint without active movement from the blonde. They would follow with a soft massage of her shoulder. This gentle stimulation helped to rebuild muscle strength and reduce scar tissue formation. Really, they should have been doing these exercises for the last couple weeks, but it hadn't entered Spencer's mind. Better late than never, though.

As she moved the blonde's arm, Ashley started up a game, prompting her lover with two words. "Chocolate or vanilla?"

This wasn't a 'learn more about your partner' kind of game. This was a 'how well do you know me?' kind of game. Spencer answered without hesitation, knowing exactly which flavor the brunette preferred.

"Chocolate. Salty or sweet?"

"Sweet. Black or white?"

"Black. Books or movies?"

"Books. Acoustic or electric?"

"Acoustic?" With a nod confirming her, Spencer smiled. "Spring or fall?"

"There's a difference?"

"Maybe not in California, but in Ohio?"

"…uh…" Ashley bit her lip as she weighed the two seasons against the blonde's personality. "…spring?"

"Yes."

"Ha! Um, Broccoli or cauliflower?"

"...broccoli?"

"Trick question. I don't like either."

"Whore. Cake or pie?"

"Yes."

"Shut up and answer."

"Cake?"

"Pie."

"Oh...okay. Um, bacon or sausage?"

"Bacon. Sausage is gross."

"You're such a lez."

"Yes I am. Romance or comedy?"

"Romance. Boys or girls?"

Spencer glared. "That's not funny." Her girlfriend laughed. "Coke or Pepsi?"

"Coke. Diet Lime to be exact. Soup or salad?"

"Soup. Same question."

"Salad." Ashley grinned devilishly. "Three or four?"

"_Ash_," Spencer groaned. "Can we keep it clean?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Four." She thought for a moment. "Fine, same question."

"Three," came the brunette's timely response. Her smirk remained firmly in place. "Rough or gentle?"

Spencer didn't miss a beat. "Gentle." The brunette's expression softened into a bashful smile. "Scoobies or Fang Gang?"

"Scoobies. Dogs or cats?"

Spencer's widened a bit. "Um…cats?"

Ashley smirked at her uncertainty. "Nope. Dogs."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Surprised?"

"A bit. I guess I kind of figured you wouldn't have the patience for dogs."

"Cats are okay, but I don't know...maybe it's that they're too independent and not as fun to play with."

Spencer nodded thoughtfully. "Huh. Never pegged you the type."

Ashley gently lowered the girl's arm. "Yeah. Not one of those fricking toy breeds, though. Those piss me off. I always kind of figured that once I was on my own, settled into my non-high school life, I'd go to a shelter and pick out one of those big mutt breeds, like a shepherd or rotti mix. And then, we could take him on long walks along the beach and run through the surf. Play fetch at the park. Curl up on the couch at night to watch movies…"

Spencer watched the brunette's faraway expression with a strange smile on her face. She was willing to bet Ashley didn't even realize she had said 'we.' It was the first time she had ever heard the older girl talk about the future like that.

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah..." Snapping out of her daydream, Ashley began a soft massage of Spencer's shoulder. Outside, the ice storm raged on.

* * *

"I'm totally craving fish right now."

The freezing rain didn't stop until night had fallen. When the following morning broke, they were greeted by the glassy sight of thick sheets of ice covering _everything_: the ground, the trees, the lake. Branches drooped and snapped off intermittently under the heavy weight. The waterfall was still running, but it had slowed even more. Walking was treacherous, and the girls had to take extremely measured steps to not slip.

Spencer looked up from the fire. "Fish?"

"Okay, well, I'm _actually_ craving fried chicken…or a ginormous cheeseburger…but since fish is just _slightly_ more available, I'll settle for that."

"Aren't you forgetting that the lake is frozen over?"

"Isn't that why they call it ice fishing?" Ashley gave a wide grin like it the best idea in the world.

"Um…Ash, I don't think we should be walking out onto the lake. It hasn't been frozen for that long, and—"

"Come on, Spence! I want something besides red meat and there's no way in hell I'm going out to try to find a bird in this ice."

The blonde shook her head. "I don't think it's a good idea," she muttered.

"It'll be fine!" the brunette insisted.

"Ash—"

"I'll be careful."

Her mind set, the older girl went into the grotto to pull one of their fishing lines out, putting it in the pocket of the sweatshirt she wore (Spencer was wearing the jacket). She grabbed the axe on her way out.

"We have no bait," Spencer reminded, trying any excuse to get her girlfriend to stop.

Ashley shrugged. "I'll use a chunk of deer."

A sliver of meat was taken from their stash and pierced onto the fishhook. Spencer watched uncertainly from shore as Ashley took a few tentative steps out onto the ice.

"Ashley, please?"

"It's fine, Spence." The brunette walked farther out from the shallows, testing the lake's hardness against her weight as she went. When she was a good twenty yards out, she turned around to face her lover and stamped her foot on the icy surface twice to prove her point. "See? Solid."

A further plea from Spencer went unheard as a faint cracking sound drew Ashley's attention down to her feet. Her stomach dropped with an abrupt sinking underfoot. She had only just enough time to meet frightened blue eyes. The brunette's yelp and the blonde's scream were drowned out by the thunderous sound of fracturing ice and splashing water as Ashley vanished from sight.


	33. Chapter Thirty Two

_To my horror, the floating door scene of _Titanic_ was playing through my head throughout the beginning here. If there are any similarities, it's totally accidental and not my fault :)_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-two**

Before the splash could settle, Ashley's head popped up out of the water, her arms hooking onto the edge of the ice. She coughed and sputtered liquid from her mouth as she kicked her feet to keep her torso above the surface. Beneath her fingers, the ice cracked.

"Ashley!" Spencer, snapping out of her shock-filled daze, ran back to the grotto, grabbed the rifle—the longest object readily available to her—and headed back to the lake.

"What are you going to do, _shoot_ me?!" Ashley all but shrieked as she struggled to hold on.

"I'm coming to get you!"

"Spencer, don't! Stay back!"

"Ash, just grab onto—"

"Damnit, Spencer, stay back!" the brunette yelled. "I'll only pull you in!"

With the cold already settling into her muscles and the two sodden sweatshirts weighing her down, Ashley clambered for any solid hold, the axe still in her hand forgotten. Each time her hands and arms found purchase, the ice splintered, causing her to flail and splash about for a new grip.

When she seemed to reach a thicker part in the ice, Ashley tried to hoist herself out, Spencer calling out words of encouragement. With a strong kick to lift her body up, she locked her elbows and braced her stomach against the edge. As soon as her full weight bore down on the ledge, though, the ice broke apart, sending her back into the frigid lake. She disappeared under the water.

"ASH!"

Frantic and scared to death, Spencer started creeping over the shallows as far as she dared. Three nerve-wracking seconds passed—a lifetime to the blonde—before her lover's head again broke the surface. Ashley's body came up out of the water, her arm in motion as she swung the axe down. The sharp corner bit into the ice and caught firmly. Clinging desperately to the axe handle, the brunette fought to pull herself up. The cold, however, was becoming too much; her muscles were growing too numb, and her fingers were losing their strength.

"S-Spencer, I…I can't hold on."

"_Do not_ let go, Ashley," the blonde warned.

Some measure of sense seemed to return to Spencer, and she lowered herself onto her stomach to spread her weight out, army crawling her way over to Ashley.

"I-I'm slipping!" the brunette cried out, panic beginning to take over.

The blonde reached the opening in the ice and grabbed a hold of her lover's arms just as Ashley's fingers loosened on the axe handle. With hindered movements, Spencer turned around and flipped onto her back to start pulling.

"Kick, Ashley!"

"I-I c-can't feel my legs."

The blonde tried digging her heels into the ice, but it was too far slick for her to build up traction. The momentum gained from a forceful tug on Ashley's arms reversed, and Spencer's body slid close to the water. Several more attempts led the blonde dangerously close to the edge, and both girls could hear the ice cracking beneath her.

"Spencer, get out of here! Just go!"

"I'm not leaving you!"

The gleaming axe blade caught Spencer's eye, and she tried to reach it with her foot. She was too close to the edge, though, and she couldn't bring her leg far enough back.

"If I were still a cheerleader," grunt, "this would be easier. I'm not as…" pant, "bendy as I used to be."

"I'll be s-s-sure to m-mention that to Sh-Sherry," Ashley stuttered from the water, her body shaking uncontrollably.

"Damn right, you will."

Doggedly, Spencer scrambled harder against the ice, building enough backwards momentum to be able to reach the axe head with her foot. Finding leverage with her new foothold, she strained against Ashley's weight, pulling with everything she had. She gritted her teeth against the searing pain shooting through her left shoulder. Ashley wiggled her body over the ledge as much as she could with numbing muscles.

When the brunette was finally flat on the ice, Spencer pushed off from the axe handle and started dragging her back to shore. The going was incredibly slow across the slick lake, especially hauling the dead weight of a nearly limp—though still conscious—Ashley. Reaching the thicker ice of the shallows, Spencer stood and lifted her lover from under the girl's arms to tow her the rest of the way.

Once in the grotto, the blonde stripped Ashley of her soaking clothes and bundled her into the sleeping bag. The secondary fire was built up to a large blaze, and a pan of water was set to warm over it. She took a moment to towel off her lover's hair, squeezing the icy water out. Pulling off her own clothes, the blonde climbed into the sleeping bag and wrapped herself around Ashley's body as closely as she could. The older girl trembled fiercely, her breaths coming in shallow spurts. Her skin was pale, and her lips and fingers had turned bluish in color.

"Th-this is _s-s-so_ déjà vu."

"Well, maybe if you had _listened_ to me," Spencer scolded, nuzzled against her throat. "I mean Christ, Ash, what the hell were you thinking?"

"…s-s-sorry…"

"Do you know how scared I was? How scared I still am?"

"S-Spence…"

"Glen fell through the ice when we were younger, and I _never_ wanted to see something like that again."

"'pencer—"

"But you always have to be so damn cocky, don't you?"

"_Spence_."

"What?"

"…how b-bad is it?"

The tremor in the brunette's voice originating from something other than the chill broke through Spencer's haze of anger. She trailed her fingers down Ashley's face and neck. "You weren't in very long…but if the hypothermia doesn't kill you, I might just kill you myself."

When she could hear the water simmering, Spencer got up long enough to pour some into a bottle. Being helped up by the blonde, Ashley eagerly took a long drink, soothed by the warm liquid running through her. The blue tint was fading from her skin, but she continued to shiver, and she was still cold to the touch. After providing the girl with another helping of heated water, Spencer did the only other thing she could think of to help raise Ashley's body temperature.

The brunette was surprised when a mouth covered hers, her lover's tongue dipping past her lips to seek out her own. "W-What are you d-doing?" she stammered when the blonde moved to her neck.

"What do you think?"

"Really, S-Spence? Now?"

"You have to get warm."

The brunette attempted a smirk. "Hey, if that's your excuse—"

"Ashley, I'm serious," Spencer said firmly, lifting her head up to look her lover in the eyes. "The fire's not enough."

"Spencer, I'm still kinda numb, and even if I could feel something, I'm really not in the mood to—" She hissed in pleasure when the blonde's teeth grazed her earlobe. She let out a low moan at the gentle sucking that followed. "…never mind..."

The blonde inched lower, sliding down the girl's body. Against her cold skin, Spencer's hot tongue left a burning trail. Warmth was kissed, licked, nipped back into every inch of flesh covering her throat, chest, and abdomen. Small hands roamed over stiff muscles, lightly kneading feeling back into them. Never too much, though, for fear of causing more harm to the brunette's unstable physical state.

When the shivering died away and the goose bumps faded over an hour later, Spencer crawled back up Ashley body and laid down on her torso, head resting just under the brunette's chin.

"You're _stopping_?"

"I don't want to overexert you. People recovering from hypothermia are supposed to be kept still and relaxed."

"I _was_ relaxed until you _stopped_. Jesus, Spence."

"Well, then, maybe you'll think twice next time before running out on the lake."

The brunette whimpered. "…tease..."

Spencer's hand continued to travel lightly over the other girl's arm and shoulder, her hot breath caressing Ashley's chest in gentle puffs. Beneath her, a more natural warmth had begun to emanate from Ashley's body. Hearing a steady rhythm of the brunette's heart beating below her ear, Spencer allowed herself to drift off, Ashley not far behind.


	34. Chapter Thirty Three

**Chapter Thirty-three**

"So, what's your prognosis, Doctor Carlin?"

Spencer poked her lover in the side, making her squirm. "Well, you're not dead, so that's a good sign."

"Hell, last night, what a way to go."

Sleep the previous night had been interrupted when Ashley awoke a bit, shall we say, frustrated. Spencer's better judgment failed—not for the first time—in face of the brunette's persuasive attentions. That would probably explain why Ashley was straddling the blonde now, sexy smirk firmly in place.

Spencer looked up at her. "You know, you woke me up from a very nice dream last night."

"Better than what I offered?"

"Yep." That smirk fell into a pout. "Aw, honey, you know I love you anyways."

Sulking, Ashley rolled off her lover and sat up with a scoff. "Right."

With a grin, Spencer moved to follow her up. "Ash…" She winced when a sharp pain in her shoulder made itself known. She fell back flat on the ground with a curse. "Son of a…!"

Ashley's air of teasing vanished in an instant. "What?"

"I think I tore something pulling you out of that damn lake. My shoulder is killing me."

Crawling over to her, the brunette lightly placed her hand over the bare skin of the injured spot. "Feels really warm."

"It's really stiff, too."

"Can I do anything for you?"

"Just do PROM for me, okay?" Spencer could see the gears turning in Ashley's mind. "Passive range of motion, Ash."

"Right. That. Of course, Doctor Carlin. Stat."

The blonde rolled her eyes as the other girl helped her to sit up. Any hint of a smile changed to a grimace as Ashley took hold of her arm and began rotating the joint in small circles. Gradually, as the muscles loosened, she increased the angle of her motions.

"You okay?" The blonde merely nodded, jaw clenched. "You know, with all this medical crap you have stored away in the cute little head of yours, you'd make a good doctor."

"That's what my mom thinks. She's been hinting at the idea of med school since freshman year."

"…can I be your sexy nurse?"

"You hate dealing with other people's problems." The brunette grunted her agreement. "Besides, all this 'medical crap' is just runoff from Mom."

"You've certainly put it to good use."

"Not much choice," Spencer sighed. "Hey, what do you think everyone will say when we tell them about all the stuff we've gone through?"

"What, you mean like being impaled by a tree, falling through thin ice, and almost getting eaten by a bear?" the blonde nodded. "And how I go all huntress and hack little creatures into pieces?"

"Ew, but yes."

"And how we have hot and heavy lesbian sex to stay warm at night?"

"_One_ time, Ashley!"

"And what about all those other times? Or was I so good that you blacked out and can't remember them?"

"Someone's full of herself."

"Mm, I'd rather be full of you." The brunette smirked at Spencer's blush before answering her question. "Kyla will just brush it off as me 'needing more drama' in my life. You know how she is. Your mom is probably going to blame me for everything and send you off to a convent. And Aiden will probably swoon because he's, well, Aiden."

Spencer's face fell. "…Aiden?"

"Wh…what?" The younger girl didn't respond, instead pulling out of the brunette's grip and reaching for her clothes. "Spencer…" When the blonde continued to silently put her clothes back on, Ashley tried to backpedal. "You know I didn't mean—"

"Don't."

"Don't what? You know I only want you."

Spencer buckled the belt of her jeans. "It's so easy for you to say that right now."

"Where the hell is this coming from?" Ashley wondered, her voice rising in distress. "What does that mean?"

"We're all alone, thousands of miles away from everybody…from him. Of course you can say you only want me—"

"Stop it."

"—because Aiden isn't around to answer your every beck and call."

"Spence—"

"No, Ashley." The blonde paused to slip her shirt over her head. "You said yourself that what happened…what we've been doing…it doesn't fix everything."

"I know that, but I thought…I thought you at least trusted me enough again for us to try."

"It's so easy," Spencer repeated in a near whisper. "It's too easy for me to trust you here. What happens when we get back home and Aiden comes knocking on your door? How can I trust that, when things get rough, you won't run away again? To him?"

"I love you…Spencer, I love you."

Ashley's softly spoken words cut through the blonde's anger like a knife. They were different somehow. Different from the identical admission made in Chelsea's studio weeks before. They didn't hold the same desperation, the same pleading. They were pure: a simple naked truth. Spencer could _feel_ the raw emotion behind them. There had only been one other instance she could remember hearing Ashley's words so stripped of her defenses; the bare confession made on their first night of intimacy, leaving the brunette at her most vulnerable. '_Because I want you, and I don't want to hurt you_.'

The older girl took Spencer's hand. "I'm not going to make that mistake again. I can't lose you."

The quiet strength was carrying on in Ashley's tone. Spencer, though had grown stronger in the past months as well, and she fully intended on making that clear.

"You're going to have to give me more than that."

She cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Apparently, she failed to reign in the unavoidable effects Ashley's words had on her, and her pitifully fragile-sounding voice betrayed her. The blonde mentally cursed herself, but the other girl merely pressed their joined hands to the spot over Spencer's heart.

"Even if you don't believe me…I'm yours."

"I just don't want to be hurt again," Spencer found herself admitting.

"I know…" The brunette gave her hand a squeeze. "Look, there's no point in worrying about this right now because you're right. Circumstances are just too convenient. Let's just…enjoy our time alone together and work on _us_. And when we get back, _then_ you can worry." At Spencer's upturned brow, Ashley eyes widened. She quickly backtracked, tripping over her words. "Not, not that there'll be anything for you to worry about because I'm all yours, but I just, I just meant that we, uh, we can't let fears about home ruin us now since we're not home yet, and—"

A finger over her lips prevented the brunette from continuing. "Breathe," Spencer told her. "You're turning blue, and it's not your most flattering color." While the older girl restored sufficient air to her lungs, the blonde tilted her head with a mirthful smile. "You ramble when you're flustered."

"Yeah, well, so do you."

Spencer's nose scrunched up in a squint. "But I'm cuter."

Ashley opened her mouth to argue, then reconsidered. "You're right because, as we have discussed before, Ashley Davies does not do 'cute.' She does…that…long list of adjectives I rattled off that last time that I truly hope you were taking notes on because I totally forgot what most of them were…"

Spencer held back a smirk. "Oh yes, _diligent_ note taking."

"Good," Ashley approved with a nod. She drifted back to the topic at hand. "So, can I take my foot out of my mouth?"

The blonde nodded. "When did you get all wise?"

"When you started freaking out."

"Hey!" Spencer gave the brunette's shoulder a shove. "…I guess you're right. I shouldn't condemn you just yet…"

"Damn straight. And in the meantime, you're going to have to stop _bitching me out_," Ashley deadpanned, but the twinkle in her eyes and light smirk playing on her lips gave away her teasing. "I'll deal with him when the time comes. I'm not quite sure how, yet…I haven't exactly been thinking about him this last month…"

"…I'm sorry I freaked on you, Ash."

"I'm sorry I gave you reason to freak." Ashley pulled her lover into an embrace. After sharing a kiss, she pressed their foreheads together. Lovingly, she stroked Spencer's cheek. "Okay, now I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

"Only for you."

"Oh please, you'd take a cheeseburger over me any day."

"And you'd take a chocolate doughnut over _me_."

"Would not."

"Whatever. You know it's true. And for the record, I'm pretty sure I would prefer to _burn_ calories eating _you_ than taking in the surplus of calories eating a burger."

Spencer stood with her mouth hung open in (horrified) awe. "Your words astound me sometimes."

The brunette grinned. "Sweet."

"I'm…going to go get something for us to cook."

"No, sweetie, you stay here and rest that shoulder. I'll go."

"Um, _darling_?"

"Yeah?"

"You have no clothes on."

Ashley looked down at her (naked) self. "…oh."

The blonde laughed. "I'll be right back. Then you can pamper me all you want."

Spencer headed out of the shelter, shaking her head. Watching her feet tread over the ice-covered snow, she wasn't really watching where she was going. She walked onto the solidified shallows, kicked the ice off from the chest latch, and lifted the lid. Picking out two steaks of bear, she closed the top and started back to the grotto.

Mid-turn, she froze.

Had she been paying attention earlier, she would have noticed the very large bull moose drinking from a gap it had kicked in the lake ice. More importantly, she would not have found herself standing within ten feet of it. She stared wide-eyed.

It stared right back.

"Uh…"

* * *

_Author's note: Damnit, girls! When are you going to learn to just stay in the damn shelter! Naked! All the time! Sheesh. You'd think they would've figured it out by now._

_Oh, fyi, Octoberish is mating season for moose, and males can get a little…aggressive…towards anything not of copulation potential. So, um…blame Canada?_

_(Ducks away from people throwing sharp pointy objects)_


	35. Chapter Thirty Four

_**taymm15:** I have no plans for a sequel. Everything is going to be wrapped up in a pretty little package that will hopefully leave everyone happy. _

_For those curious, my next projects are going to be a new Spashley story and (cough)__ a Mabrielle story (cough), plus keeping up with _Memoirs of a Spashley Addict_ for the writing campaign.  
_

_Shorter chapter, but I'm having a bad couple weeks, so I'm lucky to get this up at all.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-four**

The moose wasn't looking away.

"Nice rack you got there," Spencer squeaked out, eyes fixed on the broad antlers atop the animal's head.

A puff of air billowed into the cold atmosphere as the moose snorted. It turned, taking a few steps towards the girl.

"Ash?" Her voice cracked, and the name came out a whisper. She tried again a little louder. "Ash?"

The animal's ears swiveled towards the blonde, then flattened back such as a cat's would. Its right front hoof kicked at the ground.

"Ashley?" Spencer called even a tad louder. She backed up a couple paces, but this seemed to aggravate the moose further. It shook its massive head and snorted again when the girl braved a shout. "Ashley!"

Luckily, the brunette knew that tone and came out (fully clothed), loaded rifle in hand. She was momentarily shocked when she saw the mammoth animal standing so close to the blonde.

Irate at the two humans' appearance into its territory, the moose stomped its hooves on the icy ground and snorted a third time. It lowered is head and kicked off into a full charge, cutting the distance to Spencer quickly.

Ashley snapped out of her trance, raised the rifle, and fired.

The breath she had been holding hissed out of her mouth when she realized…

She had _missed_.

Completely.

The moose plowed into Spencer, it's forehead connecting with her chest and throwing her back several feet.

"SPENCER!"

The brunette watched in horror as her lover landed hard on the ground, the raging animal continuing onward to barrel over her. Ashley loaded another shell into the rifle while the moose skidded on the ice, turning around to attack again.

A second crack of rifle shot rang out. Flinching as the bullet entered its shoulder, the moose gave a low grunt as it changed direction to head straight for Ashley. Backing up, the brunette popped the barrel open, fished in her pocket for another cartridge and loaded it in. Just as the beast came within five feet of her, she snapped the barrel back into place, lifted the weapon, and fired a third time. The moose nosedived into the ground, sliding across the slick ice with its momentum.

When all was still, Ashley stood staring at the creature, her breathing heavy and her heart pounding. Mentally shaking herself, she moved her gaze to the blonde laying facedown and motionless several yards away.

"Spence?" she called hesitantly.

There was neither movement nor sound from the blonde. Ashley ran over, feet slipping on the ice as she veered around the moose. Falling to her knees, she skidded the rest of the way over to her lover, shaking hands reaching out to touch the younger girl's arm.

"Spencer."

Carefully, Ashley rolled the girl onto her back, relieved to find she was breathing, though her eyes were closed. There was a cut just above the blonde's left brow from where her head must have hit the ice. Ashley stared down at her unconscious girlfriend, slightly lost as to what to do. She knew moving Spencer could worsen whatever injuries the girl may have, but she couldn't just leave her on the freezing ground, either.

As smoothly as she could, Ashley pulled her lover to the grotto. The ice was finally proving helpful as it made the going somewhat easier. Once in the shelter, she laid Spencer down on the sleeping bag and built the second fire up for more light. She eased the girl's shirt up, swearing under her breath at the discolored bruise forming over the center of her upper torso. There was a shallow cut across Spencer's side, matched by a tear in the shirt. Ashley guessed the middle prongs of the moose's antlers had just barely grazed the blonde's skin. She gingerly checked the girl's back and legs, but found no markings. As far as she could tell, the hooves had missed Spencer entirely.

Retrieving the first aid kit, Ashley gently cleaned the two cuts. When she finished, she leaned over Spencer, holding the blonde's face between her hands and letting her gaze sweep over her lover's features. She pressed a kiss to Spencer's forehead, and when the blonde's eyes still did not open, tears filled her own. Ashley dropped her head so that her nose brushed against the blonde's.

"Come on, Spence," she whispered hoarsely. "Please wake up?"

Her hunger forgotten, the brunette kept vigilant watch over Spencer. Every few minutes, she checked the blonde's breathing for any wet sounds, fearing a punctured lung if ribs were broken.

As time passed, watching her lover lay unconscious, Ashley began to tremble as she choked back sobs. The burden of fear and worry and anger were becoming too much for her. They had survived their plane crashing in the wilderness and everything that came after. It wasn't going to be the elements that killed them, or the hunger, or illness, or even the weight of despair. No, Ashley had the stinging suspicion that it would be something as stupid as rampant wildlife. Life was just that bitterly unfair.

It was one of the longest half hours of Ashley's life before blue eyes fluttered open, only to squeeze shut again with a grimace.

"Hey there," the brunette murmured in the blonde's ear. "You back with me now?" Spencer groaned in response, and Ashley brushed a kiss over her uninjured brow.

The younger girl cracked her right eye open. "…ow."

"I bet."

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

Spencer's other eye slowly opened as she sorted through her jumbled thoughts. "…you…naked."

Ashley laughed. "Good to know my hotness even pervades head trauma." At the blonde's continued look of confusion, the brunette attempted to jog her memory. "Angry moose?"

Those blue eyes widened in recollection. Spencer tried to sit up to look over herself, but she cried out when a sharp pain ripped through her body. Even that small motion sent a wave of dizziness into her, and she barely registered Ashley's hands guiding her flat onto her back.

"You shouldn't move, Spence. Your ribs could be broken, but I don't know for sure."

The blonde whimpered. Her chest and shoulder burned, and her head throbbed. "I think Canada's trying to kill us," she muttered.

"I told you that weeks ago," the brunette reminded, curling up along Spencer's side. "It's dead now, if that makes you feel any better."

"Not really."

"Can I do anything for you?"

"…take me home?"

"I wish I could, sweetie."

Spencer closed her eyes and tried to block out the pain. When Ashley's fingers began rubbing gentle circles on her temples, she slowly slipped back into unconsciousness.

"I really wish I could," the brunette repeated softly to herself.


	36. Chapter Thirty Five

**Chapter Thirty-five**

Spencer woke up a short while later, finding Ashley fast asleep and nestled into the crook of her neck. Her content smile turned to a wince, though, as the pain started rolling to the forefront of her mind. The pressure in her head was still blindingly present, and her shoulder felt even more stiff than it had earlier. Fortunately, though, the sharp burning in her chest had gone down to a dull ache.

She looked down at Ashley, not wanting to move for fear of waking the brunette up. They were both tired, so tired after all they had been through. They each had suffered so much, and Spencer was loathe to think of how they would likely continue to suffer.

Little over a month, they had managed. Thirty-one days not counting that morning. That was roughly seven hundred fifty hours. Forty-five thousand minutes. She had done the math, and when she thought too hard about it, the blonde really had no idea how they had survived that long. She knew having Ashley there and vice versa was definitely key, and the survival kit was a godsend, but even then she still didn't know how they were pulling it off. If it was just her alone, Spencer knew she would have perished a long time ago. It was an undeniable fact that she owed the brunette her life.

And for Ashley to have stayed strong through the entire ordeal, at least as far as Spencer had seen, was no small wonder. She herself had broken down on more than one occasion, and she could only guess where Ashley's seemingly endless resilience was coming from. Perhaps it stemmed from the older girl's protective nature. Whatever it was, Spencer could only pray that if they ever—no, she mentally shook herself—_when_ they get home, Ashley's newfound strength would not vanish and leave the blonde heartbroken.

Gazing down at the sleeping girl, Spencer knew she couldn't bear to lose her. Not again. Ashley wasn't just the reason she was alive, she was the reason the blonde _lived_.

She sighed.

She could watch the brunette sleep forever.

Ten seconds passed.

…_crap. _"Ash," Spencer murmured. The older girl merely snuggled closer, so she tried again, giving her a little nudge. "Ashley."

The brunette snapped awake." What? What's wrong?"

"I have to pee."

"You woke me up to tell me that?" The blonde sent a pointed glance to the arms and legs pinning her body down. "Oh."

"Help me up?"

Ashley gently aided Spencer in standing, dressing, and doing her business. It was dark out—several hours before sunrise—and it wasn't hard for them to return to the shelter's warmth . As soon as the blonde was laying comfortably, Ashley, too, drifted off again.

Mid-morning, the girls stirred awake to a chorus of yipping, barking, and growling. With a groan, Ashley rolled onto her back, slinging her arm over her eyes. Spencer, still half asleep, whimpered at the loss of contact and reached out for the brunette's other arm, hugging it to her chest. When the sounds finally registered in her sleep-ridden mind, Ashley bolted upright.

"Oh, hell no."

Climbing to her feet, the brunette picked up the rifle and a few shells. She stepped outside the grotto and was greeted with the sight of the elusive pack of wolves fighting over the moose carcass. The abdomen had been split open, a leg had been pulled off, and the shoulder had been ripped into.

"Hey!" she yelled, letting a shot loose over the lake. Startled, the seven canines flinched, yelped, and cowered with their ears back. "Get the fuck outta here, you mangy bastards!"

A second shot rang out, and the wolves scampered off into the woods, carrying what meat they could in their mouths. Their whines quickly faded into the distance. Muttering, Ashley turned back towards the grotto, met with amused expression on Spencer's face.

"God, you're like the crazy old guy that shoots squirrels out of his yard…"

"That's our fucking moose, damnit. You bled for that thing, and there's no way in hell I'm letting a bunch of scavengers rip us off."

"Someone's cranky this morning."

"Tired and hungry," Ashley corrected. "And you should be resting."

"I had to make sure you didn't finally crack and go all trigger happy with invisible gnomes or nargles, or something."

The brunette cocked her head to the side. "You think I'm crazy?"

"Certifiably," the blonde deadpanned.

For that, Ashley's bottom lip stuck out. Spencer laughed, causing the pain in her chest to flare, but the other girl was just too adorable.

Ashley huffed. "You know, it's not wise to piss off the crazy person with the gun."

The blonde merely smiled, kissing the shorter girl on the tip of her nose. "Go make breakfast."

"Yes, Mistress."

"And fast. Otherwise, I'll have to get out my whip."

Ashley's eyes glazed over as images of Spencer with a whip bombarded her mind. Her less than pure thoughts were quickly interrupted by fingers snapping in front of her face.

"Now, Ash."

"Right. Food."

Two slabs of bear were set over the fire. While they waited for the meat to cook, the brunette rotated and massaged her lover's shoulder in front of the warm blaze. The faint sounds of the baying wolves could be heard every now and then, perhaps as the pack was hunting down its own kill.

The brunette's gaze flickered over towards the partially mangled moose carcass. "I hope they don't start coming around a lot."

"Early winter. They must be getting desperate."

"Aren't we all," Ashley murmured under her breath.

Spencer just barely made out her words, but she said nothing. Instead, she chewed on the venison that was done heating. As they ate, Ashley stared out at the lake. Specifically, the point where the ice was broken.

"You know, we're going to have to get that axe back eventually." Spencer gave her a look. "I didn't mean _today_. Just…eventually. We'll need it for our wood supply."

The blonde relented with a nod. "Eventually."

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, Spencer leaning her head on Ashley's shoulder when they finished. It was a quiet morning. No breath of wind rustled the trees, and the normally vocal birds were oddly mute.

Ashley sighed. "I guess I have to do something with that moose…ugh."

"Do you want help?"

"No. No moving for you. I'm restricting you to bed rest for the next few days."

"Aw, but bed rest is only tolerable when you're there with me," Spencer pouted.

Instead of smirking, Ashley smiled softly and brushed her fingers over her cheek. "I'll be in as soon as I can."

After helping the blonde sit down in the shelter, the brunette gathered up the things she'd need to strip the moose. Coming out of the grotto, she started towards the animal.

Halfway there, she stopped dead in her tracks, her expression one of shock.

"Oh…my god."

* * *

_Author's Note: Oh my god is right! What is it? Is it a gopher? A zombie moose? A leprechaun? A shirtless Aiden? Who knows?  
_

_Starting the final chapters countdown! Five more to go._


	37. Chapter Thirty Six

_Holy crap, another update already? :) I felt inspired today and thought I'd reward you guys after bombarding you with all the cliffhangers recently. Aren't they fun?_

_I would like to state for the record that Aiden will NOT be appearing shirtless in this story. __**Ever.**__ The one time in the L.A. chapter was just a joke and shall not be repeated._

_-ahem- Anyway, this is a montage of short scenes, much like the first chapter after the prologue was. Read, enjoy, review.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-six**

"Holy shit."

Ashley flinched at the voice that wasn't her own. She was too shocked to move. Not five paces away stood a man in a camouflaged hunter's jacket. He looked to be in his early thirties, and a bit of dark hair peeked out from under his baseball cap.

"You're one of the girls, aren't you?" he asked. "From the plane crash."

"Uh…" Still thunderstruck, Ashley called over her shoulder. "Spencer?"

The man stood patiently as the brunette waited for her lover to emerge from the grotto. It wasn't long before the blonde appeared.

"You know, for someone who just restricted me to bed rest, you're sure quick to—" The rest of Spencer's words died unspoken as her eyes landed on the unfamiliar person.

The man's eyes lit up even more seeing the second girl. "You're both alive! Hot damn, people are going to be happy to hear that. My name's Jordan, by the way."

"Where did…when did…how did…?"

Jordan smiled at the blonde's sputtering. "I was in the area deer hunting. I heard the rifle shots and saw the smoke from your fire. The search is still going on, so I thought I'd check it out, and good thing I did, eh?" Ashley and Spencer were both stunned silent. "So…you girls want to go home?"

* * *

The shock was slow to wear off. The girls were in a daze as they packed up all their gear, Jordan helping here and there. The sleeping bags were separated and rolled. The rifle was disassembled and returned to its case. Their backpacks were filled with their personal belongings (including the fishhooks, bow, and arrows). The survival kit was dislodged from the lake ice and emptied. The meat was replaced by the rifle case, first aid kit, flare gun, compass, pan, utensils, cooking rack, hunting knife, any trash, and the axe, which Jordan (stupidly) retrieved from the lake. The tent bundle was added to the pile of their gear. The fires were doused with heaps of snow.

A final sweep of the area was run to ensure that all manmade items were being removed. Neither would admit it, but both girls were taking in the sight of the lake, the waterfall and the grotto one last time, feeling an odd attachment to their three-week home.

Jordan offered Spencer his jacket for the upcoming trek, while Ashley wore the bear. The brunette and the hunter slung the sleeping bags and backpacks over their shoulders, the girl taking the tent and the man picking up the survival kit. Neither allowed Spencer to carry anything, despite her insistence.

Even as they started the journey to Jordan's truck, the idea that they were going home hadn't yet sunk in with the girls. They walked in silence, listening as the hunter spoke.

The plane had been found ten days prior. With only the pilot's body in the vicinity and the gear missing, search efforts had reenergized, and all hunters, campers, pilots, rangers, and game wardens were encouraged to keep an eye out for the girls.

It was just over two hours before they made it to the large green Chevy. Their gear was loaded into the truck bed, and the girls climbed wearily into the back seat. Jordan got onto the radio with the nearest ranger station, informing them of the situation. He was met with long string of joyous expletives, causing Ashley to laugh briefly.

Though tired, neither Spencer nor Ashley could sleep on the three hour drive to the station. The realization was finally catching up to them: they were safe. They would soon be free of Canada's wilderness. They would see their family again. They were going home.

* * *

The few workers at the ranger outpost bustled with excitement. They greeted Jordan with eager handshakes and Spencer and Ashley with warm smiles. The girls were offered hot chocolate and whatever food items they wanted from the vending machine. Questions were asked, and the two took turns answering while they waited for their transport, Ashley holding Spencer's hand in her own.

Within an hour, a helicopter landed in the nearby clearing, ready to airlift the girls to the Victoria General Hospital in Winnipeg, the nearest major city. The time came for them to part with Jordan, each hugging him fiercely.

"Take care, you two," he said simply.

Spencer returned his jacket, and both she and Ashley were soon wrapped in those of the chopper's medical team. The brunette was all too eager to leave the bearskin coat behind, insisting it was cramping her style. If anything, it made Spencer laugh through her nervousness at being in an aircraft again.

When the helicopter rose into the air, the two medical workers kept the girls distracted with a flurry of health inquiries, coupled with the recording of their vitals and the injection of several precautionary vaccinations. It was during Ashley's turn for the shots that Spencer learned of the brunette's fear of needles, with a bruised hand to show for it. Apparently, nothing short of the blonde's tongue in her mouth, fully naked body, and/or orgasmic bliss could divert the older girl's attention from the sharp metal being imbedded into her flesh (although on the third vaccine, Ashley was indignant enough at being called a wimp to momentarily look away from the syringe in the aide's hand to glare at Spencer).

The helicopter flight passed by quickly, and another team of medical technicians awaited their landing on the hospital roof. For the first time in over a month, Ashley was separated from Spencer as each was ushered into different exam rooms. To say the girls bore expressions resembling mild panic as their hands disentwined would not be a stretch.

A full physical exam was performed, and blood tests were run. Any deficiencies found in the results were boosted by another set of injections. On Spencer's end, radiographs were taken, and her shoulder's healing was evaluated.

Ashley was only too eager to take advantage of the staff shower facilities. In fact, she perhaps spent a little too much time under the hot stream of water, but it was a luxury that she had sorely missed. After drying her hair, she was led to one of the private staff lounges where a hot (hospital quality) meal and television awaited her.

It was certainly a bit of a culture shock to be around so many people again, with technology and sanitary amenities at her fingertips. Even then, though, Ashley could only think about Spencer. The blonde had yet to join her, and it was starting to worry her.

Soon, Doctor Thorsgaard, who had been alternating between both girls earlier, came into the lounge. "How are you doing, Miss Davies? Can I get you anything else while you wait?"

"No thanks, I'm fine. Where's Spencer?"

The older woman smiled knowingly. "She's just getting cleaned up."

"How is she?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Davies, but hospital policy prevents the discussion of Miss Carlin's medical information with nonfamily persons."

"That girl _is_ my family. Besides. I was _there_ when all that crap happened to her! Don't you think I deserve to know how bad it is? _Please_, I just want to know that she's okay."

After a moment of deliberation, the doctor sat down next to Ashley on the sofa. "The radiographs we took of Miss Carlin's ribs showed that several were bruised, but luckily none were fractured. The injury in her shoulder is healing quite well considering the circumstances. However, there is a very minor infection that we're treating with antibiotics, and the strain the muscles were put under has caused some lingering trauma. If Miss Carlin ever hopes to have her full strength back, she will likely have to undergo a period of physical therapy. We closed the cut on her forehead with a few stitches, and we bandaged the laceration above her pelvis. Other than that, Miss Carlin—both of you—are in relatively good health. Minor weight loss, but easily remedied."

Ashley sighed in relief. "Thank god."

"She should be out shortly. I've been informed that your families have been contacted, and a flight has been arranged to fly the two of you back to California later tonight."

"Really?"

"Sounds like it."

"…it's not a private jet is it?"

The older woman chuckled. "No. I believe you'll be flown out by Canada's National Search and Rescue Program." She leaned closer with a conspiratorial whisper. "I think they feel bad for not finding the two of you sooner."

This time, it was Ashley who chuckled. "They better."

At that moment, Spencer was shown into the lounge by one of the technicians, her left shoulder encased in a blue sling. Ashley stood and met her with a long embrace, and the blonde smiled into her neck. The brunette pulled back enough to gaze into sapphire eyes, cupping her lover's face in one hand.

"Are you all right?" she murmured.

At Spencer's small nod, Ashley leaned closer to nuzzle against her face. Doctor Thorsgaard watched the exchange with a poorly hidden smile, eventually clearing her throat quietly. "If neither of you need anything else, I'll leave you to your meal. I believe it will be within the hour that you'll be choppered to the airfield, so we'll be in to check on you before then."

The doctor was thanked before she left the room, and the girls went back to relishing each other's company.

* * *

It was late that night by the time they left the hospital. The second helicopter was more military-esque, as was the plane waiting for them at the airfield.

"Ash, I really don't want to fly again," Spencer whined softly.

"I know, but we don't really have a choice. Besides, it'll go fast because you'll sleep for most of it."

The blonde wasn't so sure. "I'm not going to be able to sleep."

"We're going to be fine."

Ashley's assurances didn't stop the blonde from fidgeting anxiously in her seat as they waited for their gear to be loaded. When the plane finally took off, the brunette could see her lover's knuckles turn white as she gripped the seat's armrests. She pried the hand closest to her away and held it in her own.

"Spence..._Spencer_." When she had the younger girl's attention, Ashley squeezed her hand. "We're going home."

A smile, though small, slowly spread over the blonde's features.

* * *

It was well past midnight when they crossed over the Canadian border and into the United States. The hours ticked by, but Ashley couldn't close her eyes to sleep. Instead, she gazed out the small window at the darkened sky. Not out of nerves but rather anticipation of their arrival in Los Angeles.

It was odd for her to think that just twenty-four hours before they had been back at the grotto, an angry moose dead on their doorstep; wolves at the gate; ice underfoot; their survival hanging on by a thread. Now, the Rockies were passing by beneath them as they inched ever closer to their families, friends, and warm beds.

She watched as the horizon leisurely grew lighter in hues of pink and orange. Spencer shifted against her shoulder, burrowing closer as she slept (it hadn't taken her long to get there). Tearing her eyes away from the window, Ashley looked over at the peacefully sleeping blonde. Lips curling up lovingly, she brushed a kiss over her lover's forehead before turning her gaze back to the glowing sky.

She had been through so much with Spencer in the time they had known each other. There had been pain, and there had been heartache, but they were still together, still ensnared by love's web and entangled in each other's lives. She was no longer naïve enough to think that they wouldn't have their share of problems, but they had grown stronger for it, and they'd be together in the end. She knew that without a doubt; felt it in her heart, mind, and soul.

As the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon and lit upon her face, a new feeling of contentment, of completion, and of hope, filled her. With one last look at the rising sun, Ashley turned away to lean her head on Spencer's, a cryptic little smile settling on her lips as she closed her eyes to sleep.

* * *

_Author's note: Jeez, that actually kinda sounds like an ending…but it's not! Four more chapters!_


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven

_Another one! Man, I'm on a roll._

_Glad I could make you guys happy by having them get rescued finally. It's about time. Now I just have to wrap up everything at home._

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-seven**

"We're here at L.A.X. airport, awaiting the landing of the two teenage survivors of last month's plane crash. Ashley Davies—daughter of late rock star Raife Davies—and companion Spencer Carlin were flying into Canada over Labor Day weekend when the engine of their private jet stalled. Distress calls were made before all contact was lost. Miss Davies and Miss Carlin were discovered just yesterday by deer hunter Jordan Crothall after surviving thirty-two days in the Canadian wilderness. Details of the two girls' physical health are yet unknown. It has already been reported that jet pilot Jason Travers was killed in the crash. Full coverage of this developing story when we return. Reporting live from the Los Angeles International Airport, I'm Linda Schultz with CNN."

Behind the police barriers, a half dozen other news journalists gave similar reports. Crews for television stations and newspapers switched their camera focus between the reporters, the family, and the landing strip.

"…King High students Spencer Carlin and Ashley Davies…"

"…airport officials have closed the runway down in anticipation of their plane's arrival…"

"…rock star heiress Ashley Davies suffered the loss of her father, rocker Raife Davies, earlier this year…"

"…as the girls' families wait anxiously for their landing…"

"…Spencer Carlin is the sister of Clay Carlin, a victim of last spring's King High prom shooting …"

"…unclear how the two girls managed to survive the unusually early winter onset…"

When the military jet was sighted, the journalists and random spectators buzzed. Paula could hardly stand still, her shaking hands twisting the hem of her shirt. Arthur stood behind her with his hands on his wife's shoulders, murmuring assurances in her ear. Glen, though he wouldn't admit it, was fighting an urge to fidget similar to his mother's, his stomach churning with anticipation.

A short ways away, Kyla stood patiently, arms casually crossed and sunglasses shielding her eyes. Christine was notably (but not surprisingly) absent. In the older woman's stead, Aiden lurked behind Kyla, shifting his weight from foot to foot with his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his motorcycle jacket.

"Oh, would you stop dancing around," the petite brunette snapped over her shoulder. "You're making _me_ jumpy."

Now, whether he ceased his restless squirming or not, no one cares because the plane was touching down on the tarmac. Cameras trained their focus on the plane as it came to a stop. Eager gazes searched the windows for movement. Paula clutched Arthur's hand and held her breath.

A set of airplane stairs were wheeled to the side hatch by airport personnel.

Another minute passed.

Finally, the door opened.

* * *

The first person to appear was one of the Canadian Search and Rescue workers. The man in uniform traveled the stairs to the ground and waited. Everyone watching was silent. Then, after a short delay, a brunette ducked through the hatch and stepped into the light, tired brown eyes squinting in the bright California sun. The girl took two stairs down, then turned and held out her hand towards the plane door. A blonde appeared soon after, a sling on her arm and a weary smile on her face.

Ashley let Spencer pass her on the stairs, a guiding hand helping the blonde keep her balance on the way down. The brunette followed her to the ground. The man waiting for the girls bid them farewell as one of his coworkers unloaded their gear.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Paula began rushing over, and Spencer broke away from Ashley to meet her mother halfway, the two blondes hugging fiercely. It wasn't long before Arthur and Glen joined the embrace.

Ashley watched the reunion with a bit of a sad smile. Her gaze was interrupted, though, when a dark-haired blur crashed into her, nearly knocking her to the ground.

"Jesus, Kyla!" she cursed as she regained her footing—no small feat considered the arms wrapped tightly around her body.

Then, as quickly as she had latched on, Kyla pushed herself off her sister and punched her in the arm. "Don't _ever_ pull something like this again! You hear me?!"

"It's kind of hard to _not_ hear you when you're shrieking like banshee," the older sister retorted.

Kyla just smirked, and Ashley returned it. Looking away, brown eyes searched the crowd of people on the tarmac. In the back of her mind, Ashley noticed Aiden standing several yards away, but he wasn't the one she was looking for. Her heart dropped a little.

"She's not here…is she…?"

Kyla cringed. "She's in the Caribbean for another couple days."

The older brunette's shoulders drooped. "…some mother…"

"Her words? Unless you were coming back in a body bag, she wasn't going to cut her vacation short to cater to your rebellious antics."

"Please, she wouldn't even then. Dead or alive, it's not like I'd be going anywhere, so what's a few more days without seeing her only daughter?"

Ashley rubbed her face with her hands, pinching the bridge of her nose while Kyla looked uncomfortably on. She sensed someone come up next to her.

"Ashley?" a male voice called gently.

Lowering her hands, the girl looked up into his kind face. "Hey, Mister C."

Arthur smiled warmly. "Are you all right?"

"More or less," she answered with a shrug.

"It's good to see you home safe."

Even with that simple admission, Ashley's spirits lifted slightly, and she hugged him firmly. "Thanks, Mister C." As she released Spencer's father, there was a tap on her shoulder. She glanced up to see Glen's goofy smile and conjured her own with a mocking bobbled of her head. "What?"

"Kyla totally let me drive your Porsche."

Chocolate orbs widened in disbelief swiveled to meet those of her sister (whose eyes were also widened, only hers in panic). "You _what?!_"

"Ixnay on the Orschepay," Kyla murmured nervously to the blonde boy.

"My_** Porsche?!**_"

"Uh…"

"He drove my _**Porsche**_ here?"

"I thought you'd want to drive it home!" Kyla tried to reason. "And it's not like _I_ drove it!"

"So you let _**Glen**_ drive it?"

"Better him than Aiden…" the younger sister whispered.

Ashley's eyes narrowed as she considered this. "…true." She continued to glare."…fine. I suppose since you meant well, I won't kill you._ This _time_._ Nobody except a valet service is allowed to drive my baby. Either of them," she added as an afterthought.

"Bet you'd let Spencer drive them…" came a quiet mutter.

Again, Ashley thought about it. "…shut up."

At that moment, Spencer and her mother joined the growing cluster of people. "Ashley. Good to see you're well," Paula greeted somewhat stiffly, though civilly.

"Uh, thanks, Pau—Missus C."

The older woman turned to her daughter. "Come on, Spencer. Let's take you home."

It seemed the idea of parting with Ashley hadn't yet entered the younger blonde's mind, and she worriedly met the brunette's gaze.

Ashley gave a reassuring smile. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "I guess I'll…talk to you later."

A valiant effort on the brunette's part, but the distress mirrored in her own eyes was plain as day to the person who could read her so well. The look the shared did not go unnoticed by those watching, and it was no surprise when Spencer broke into hurried footfalls towards the other girl.

For all her attempted poise, a close observer would note that Ashley took an earnest step to meet Spencer that fraction of a second sooner. Two arms were flung around her neck just as her own wrapped around the blonde's back.

"It's not like you're never going to see me again, Spence."

The strong words were marred when Ashley tightened her embrace even as she spoke them. Any lingering hope to fool Spencer was dashed when the brunette buried her face into her lover's neck, squeezing her eyes shut against the sudden prick of tears.

Whispered 'I love yous' mingled as both girls professed them. Spencer pulled back just enough to find Ashley's lips with her own, not caring who was watching. Oblivious to the flashes of news cameras. Unaware of Kyla's smug look of self-satisfaction. Not concerned with Aiden's expression of pain. Not seeing the proud smile on her father's face, or the eye roll her brother gave.

Not knowing Paula was fighting back tears. Not of anger or resentment or disgust, but of an emotion completely foreign as she witnessed her daughter's display of affection.

Slowly, the girls untangled from each other with discreet sniffles and a careless wiping of their eyes. The blonde started backing away, though her fingers were entwined with those of her lover.

"Spencer." When the blonde met her gaze, Ashley raised the girl's hand to her lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. "I'm yours," she whispered. "…and you still owe me a skinny-dip."

With a shy smile, Spencer turned to her family and let them lead her out of the airport, her belongings in tow. Ashley watched her go until the Carlin family was out of sight.

With a smirk, Kyla shoulder bumped her sister. "You ready to go home?"

Ashley dragged her gaze away from where she last saw her lover. "Yeah. I am."

With that, the two sisters also walked off the tarmac, ignoring both the flock of journalists and the familiar pair of sad eyes watching them leave.

* * *

Hours later found Spencer showered, freshly changed, and full from a home-cooked meal. She had already narrated the tale of their survival (editing out certain intimate details, of course), leaving her parents and brother stunned. Going back and mentally reliving the entire experience surprised even Spencer herself, recalling just how much she and Ashley had been through.

She had also received phone calls from various relatives and friends (and lover—twice. Each time, the brunette made up a semi-plausible excuse for why she 'had' to call.) Now, she was content watching television, sandwiched on the sofa between Paula and Arthur. Even Glen seemed to want to stay close to her as he huddled on the floor in front of her knees. It was comfortable. Familiar. Homey.

Her cell phone began to ring. Digging the device out of her pocket, she checked her called ID and chuckled. The girl had made it another whopping two hours. Pushing off from the couch, she excused herself from her family.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" With a nods from Arthur and Paula, Spencer answered her phone on her way to the stairs. "Forget something?" she greeted teasingly.

"_I swear I was never this needy before I met you."_

"Ashley Davies, needy?"

"_Shut up. I couldn't sleep."_

"It's 7:30."

"_Hey, I told you I'd talk to you later, and it's later, damnit."_

Spencer smiled softly, reclining on her bed and idly turning a certain memento around in her fingers. It was the flower Ashley had given her the morning they got back together, pressed and dried to preservation. She was sure the brunette didn't know she still had it. "I miss you, too."

Spencer could practically hear Ashley's nose crinkle with a smile. _"We're pretty sad, aren't we?"_

"No. Just very much in love."

"_Come over?"_

"You know I can't. Mom will kill me if I leave the house this soon."

"_Yeah, I guess." _Ashley sighed. _"Kyla's being all weird and clingy, too, even though she's trying really hard to hide it."_

"She cares about you. And you know you missed her, too."

"_Don't ever tell her that."_

"My lips are sealed."

"_That's unfortunate."_

"Bite me."

_"I would if you were here."_

Spencer sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"_That_ is _the question, isn't it?"_ the brunette responded devilishly.

"We'll see each other soon enough."

"_Never soon enough."_

"Good_night_, Ash."

* * *

Ashley tossed her cordless phone up onto her bed with a smirk. Standing from her beanbag chair, she walked over to her keyboard, where her music notebook sat. She plopped down on the stool and slid a folded piece of paper out of the binder's pocket. Unfurling the paper, she gazed at the drawing of the flower, 'S heart A' written in Spencer-script beneath it. That simple little thing still made her smile like an idiot.

Setting the note aside, she flipped her notebook open to the page entitled 'Everytime,' her fingers dancing lightly over the keyboard as she tested out the sound. Over the next several hours, she polished up the score, adding notes, changing chords, and fine-tuning the countermelody.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. A smile came to her face. The brunette nearly bounded down the staircase and through the living room to the foyer. She opened the door, grin firmly in place as she knew who would be on the other side.

Or not.

Her smile vanished.

"Aiden."

* * *

_Author's addendum:_

_-laughs evilly-_

_-bursts into a fit of coughs-_

_-almost chokes on the Aiden dander-_

_Um, don't hurt me? The next chapter should be...interesting...and long...  
_

_Three more to go!_


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight

_Wow, this was a monster. The good kind.  
_

_Warning for Aiden bashing. Actually, warning is too strong a word. It's more like a heads-up. A welcoming. A toast, perhaps. Yes. A celebratory toast to Aiden bashing. And a lot of it. An entire chapter of it, actually. It's time for the "Aiden Factor" to be put to rest. I truly hope it satisfies your needs._

_Oh, and there's a good supply of swearing, too. More than usual, that is._

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-eight**

It's funny how feelings can change without a person really realizing it. Ashley used to feel sympathy, compassion, even familial love for her male best friend. Opening her door, however, to find Aiden standing there with his stupid silver motorcycle jacket and his even stupider emo hair, the girl was surprised by the volume of resentment and _venom_ coursing through her veins.

"Hey, Ash."

_Don't call me Ash_, was her first impulse, but she decided it would waste too much breath.

"What." It wasn't a question so much as a 'fuck off.'

"Can I come in?"

"No."

"Can we talk?"

"Must we?"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Ashley gave a ragged sigh. "What do you want, Aiden?"

"I wanted to see how you are. You _were_ in a plane crash, after all."

"Right."

"I was starting to think I'd never see you again."

The girl shrugged wearily. "I'm right here."

"Exactly," Aiden agreed. "We're both here. Look, I can't imagine what you went through, but you survived—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," the girl muttered.

"—you made it back home—"

"Aiden—"

"—and I should have_ died_, Ash."

"Cry me a fucking river."

His line of reasoning was thwarted by the unexpected snub. "…wha...?"

"Every single person at that dance could say the exact same thing. What about the people who actually _did_ die, huh? What about Clay and Jenny and Eric and Saundra? Are you so self-fucking-righteous that you think your 'almost death' is more important than them? That it gives you some kind of free pass in life to play your bullshit games? It's been _four_ _months_, Aiden. Stop playing the fucking victim to get what you want and grow up like the rest of us have had to."

Aiden was less than discouraged. "Is it so wrong for me to think about you? About us? I'm still in love with you."

"Think about whatever the hell you want, just stop trying to come between me and Spencer and stop using that fucking scar on your chest as an excuse to get in my pants!"

"But…what about that night?" he pressed. "Didn't that mean anything to you?"

Almost distractedly, Ashley traced a finger along the door jamb. "You know, it's amazing the amount of clarity a little bit of distance can give a person." She looked him in the eye. "What happened with you was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. One that I wish I could erase—"

"Tell me you don't love me," the boy interrupted.

"_I don't love you_." At his pained expression, she let the hammer stroke fall. "You took advantage of me, Aiden. I was vulnerable, and you…you _preyed_ on that like a fucking vulture. More than once, ever since Spencer and I got together. You saw what we had, and you did everything in your power to steal it away, everyone else be damned. Now ask me again if I love you," she dared.

When he wisely remained silent, Ashley continued. "I've already taken the blame for my actions with Spencer, but you and I are not okay. You betrayed your friendship not only with her, but with me, and you know I can't afford to keep people like that in my life. I need people I can count on, and I may have been blinded by all the shit going on to think I could count on you, but I can't anymore. I won't make that mistake again."

"You're choosing her…"

"There never was a choice. It was always Spencer. It will always _be_ Spencer," the girl vowed. "She's my lifeline. I'm only strong when I'm with her."

Aiden took a step closer, well within Ashley's personal boundaries. "And us?"

The brunette held back an aggravated groan and settled for running a hand through her hair. "I can't be friends with you anymore."

"What? Why not?"

"Because you _fucked up_, Aiden!" the girl snapped, far beyond her threshold of patience. Her outburst caused the boy to cower back a step. "And if I forgive you for everything you did and let you back into my circle, I'll always be wondering if you have more on your mind. And I don't want to be jerked around by hidden agendas anymore. So you're out of my life. If you can't handle that...too fucking bad."

Without another word, Ashley closed the door. Frowning, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wood. As she attempted to sort out and calm whatever emotions she was feeling, her fists clenched and unclenched reflexively.

"Hey," Kyla called from the kitchen doorway. In her hand, she held the glass of water she had come down for. "What was that about?"

Opening her eyes, Ashley met her sister's gaze. "…do me a favor? If Aiden starts coming by, don't let him in, okay?"

"Sure. You okay?"

"Peachy," the older brunette muttered.

"Do you…want to talk or something?"

"Thanks, Ky, but I think I'm going to try to get some sleep. It's been a long...well, four months."

"All right." As the older brunette began making her way up the stairs to her room, Kyla stopped her. "Hey, Ashley."

"What?"

"It's good to have your bitchy ass home."

Ashley smirked. "Really? 'cause I figured you would've moved your midget ass back to Baltimore by now, and I have to say, I'm _so_ disappointed."

"Sorry to let you down." Kyla deadpanned. "Goodnight, bitch."

"G'night, whore."

Climbing the stairs, Ashley walked into her room and rubbed her face with her hands. Collapsing face-first onto her plush bed, she debated whether she wanted to make the effort to change. Deciding to compromise by stripping down completely and remaining naked, she slipped between her silky sheets, instantly melting into the familiar comfort. She burrowed into her soft pillows and closed her eyes.

However tired she was, though, sleep would not come.

The conversation with Aiden continued to replay through her mind, agitating her further by the minute. She tossed and turned for hours, her anger and frustration never lessening. Glancing over at her clock, bright green numbers stared back at her. 1:03am. As she watched, the 'three' turned to a 'four' as though mocking her. Ashley's eyes then landed on the cordless phone sitting next to the taunting time device. She hesitated. Considered it. Deliberated. And thought about it some more. With one last glance at the clock (1:07), her fingers finally grasped the phone and pressed the number one speed dial.

With the first ring, she was eager.

With the second ring, she was anxious.

With the third ring, she was disheartened.

She was about to hang up when she heard a sleepy voice pick up.

"_Hey."_

That single word made Ashley smile for the first time in hours. "Hey. Miss me?"

Snort. _"Little bit. What's wrong?"_

"What makes you think something's wrong?" Ashley countered merely for the sake of stalling.

Subconsciously, she threw an arm behind her in a blind reach for an object sitting on the pillows on the other side of the bed. When her fingers wrapped around a soft fuzzy foot, she pulled Gabrielle the Bear to her chest and hugged her tightly. She was unaware that across town, Spencer was holding Amanda the Bear much in the same way.

"_It's one in the morning, and you sound like you're not even trying to convince me."_

Ashley chuckled halfheartedly. "I'm sorry I woke you, Spence, I just…I was upset, I couldn't sleep, and I knew hearing your voice would make me feel better."

On the other end of the line, the blonde smiled briefly._ "What happened?"_

"Aiden showed up at my door earlier." Silence. "I didn't let him in."

"_And?"_

"He wanted to talk. I'm sure I don't have to tell you about what."

Spencer sighed wearily. _"How did it go?"_

Ashley spent the next few minutes detailing the conversation with Aiden to her girlfriend. When she finished, she waited for Spencer's response. It was several excruciatingly long seconds before it came.

"…_I love you."_

The brunette smiled reflexively. "I love you, too. I wish you were here with me."

"_Me too."_

"It feels so weird having to talk to you on the phone."

"_I know. I'm so used to being able to see you and touch you."_

"Well, you know, some people in this situation—"  
_  
"I'm not having phone sex with you, Ash." _

"Way to completely destroy my fantasy, Spence."

"_My offer still stands to help you with some of your other fantasies. Just not this one….yet."_

"Ooo, dirty mind. I'm going to hold you to that."  
_  
"I'm sure you will."_

"All right, well, I guess I should let you get some sleep."

_"Do you feel better?"  
_  
"Much."

_"Good."_

"Thank you."

_"You're welcome. 'night, Ash."_

"'night, Spence.

* * *

A day of rest, then back to school it was.

Had to happen sometime.

Luckily, it was the middle of the week, so the weekend wasn't far away.

Make-up work was going to be a bitch, though.

Spencer stepped outside of her house, welcomed by the sight of a familiar black convertible, rock music drifting out from the speakers. Ashley watched her approach the car with a roguish grin.

"Hey, sexy," the brunette greeted saucily. "Ya lookin' fer a ride?"

The blonde smiled bashfully—perhaps even giggled a bit—as she climbed into the passenger seat. "What do you charge?"

"What are you offering?"

Without further ceremony, the two girls leaned across the divide and kissed softly. When they parted, Spencer looked up to see her mother watching from the front door of their house, appearing neither angry nor happy.

"Bye, Mom!"

Ashley glanced over as well, seeing Paula give a wave to her daughter. She forced a smile and sent the woman a small wave of her own. "She's going to strangle me, isn't she?" she mumbled as she pulled away from the house.

"I have no idea…she's been acting weird…"

"How?"

"She hasn't mentioned you at all. Usually when I say your name, she practically starts spitting holy water, but she's been oddly…quiet since I got home."

"Huh. Maybe my gay invisibility cloak works on _your_ mom, too."

"You're _not_ invisible, Ash."

"I'm not?"

"Well, would I get into a car like this if there wasn't a totally hot chick driving it?"

"Spencer Carlin," Ashley drawled in mock surprise. "…seriously, you have no idea how much I missed this car."

"Oh really. Did you keep calling her every two hours?" Spencer teased.

"Shh. " The brunette dropped her voice to a whisper. "You'll hurt her feelings if she finds out I love you more than her."

The blonde laughed, and the rest of the drive to school was filled only with the music coming from Ashley's stereo.

Parking in the student lot, the two climbed out of the car, meeting on the sidewalk in front of it to start towards the school building. Between them, their hands brushed, and their fingers entwined. Several classmates welcomed them back as they walked, some wondering what it was like and others asking how the two girls were.

"Oh good, you're back," a grating voice that dripped with disdain greeted.

Spencer and Ashley turned to face the Latina, more amused by her persistence than anything.

"King High just wasn't the same without its resident rainbow rangers," the ex-cheerleader continued.

Ashley clasped her hands together in front of her chest. "Aw, Madison, I missed you, too. In fact, I wrote a song about you while we were gone."

The dancer did not share her rival's delight. "Did you."

Ashley nodded eagerly. "You want to hear it?"

"Must I?"

"It'd only be polite." At Madison's groan, the singer smiled sweetly. "I call it, 'Mad-Eye Madison,' and it goes a little something like this." Clearing her throat and ignoring the Latina's glare, Ashley started shamelessly belting out an improvised rock ballad.

"Madi to the royals,  
Mad-Eye to the outcast.  
Insults of the future,  
Insults never half-assed!

To live without my Mad-Eye  
Would be quite possible to do.  
'cause in this world of troubles,  
Mad-Eye Madi drags me throoooough!"

On the last line, Ashley dropped to her knees, hands balled into fists and thrown out at her sides to truly give the satire performance her all. When she held the final note, the dozens of students that had stopped to listen broke into raucous applause, hoots, and whistles. Spencer's sides (and ribs) hurt from laughing so hard. Kyla's cheeks hurt from trying to keep the grin off her face. And quite possibly, Madison's eyes hurt from the magnificent eye roll she conjured.

With a flip of the hair over her shoulder, the Latina began walking away. "You're such a freak, Davies."

Spencer could have sworn she saw a smile hidden somewhere in that dismissive gesture. She shook her head in wonder. "Ash..."

"I know. I'm amazing." Ashley stood up with a cheeky grin, casually brushing off her jeans.

"Attention whore," Kyla coughed good-naturedly.

The older sister smirked. "Well, I think I'm ready to go home now. How about you?"

Spencer sent her a sideways glance. "Um, we kinda still have that thing called school."

"Oh. Right." Ashley gave a dramatic sigh. "Sorry, I forgot. Fine, then I'll walk you to first period."

With a smile, Spencer took her girlfriend's offered hand while the older girl carried her book bag for her. Just outside the blonde's class, Ashley pressed a brief kiss to her lips and whispered a promise to see her at lunch. Several minutes later, the brunette walked into her own class.

Several minutes past the bell, that is.

"Miss Davies, you're late," Mrs. Coyle grumbled from her desk.

Ashley was in disbelief of the reprimand, but she recovered quickly. "Oh, um…a Canadian ate my homework."

The class erupted into giggles, quickly silenced by their teacher's glare. "I realize you have been through a terrible ordeal, Miss Davies, but that does not excuse you from arriving late to my class. In the future I expect you to be _on time_."

"Yes ma'am."

With a smirk (and a Nazi salute when the woman wasn't looking, causing more snickers), Ashley took her ritual seat in the back. Without hesitation, she took out her freshly charged iPod, popped the earplugs into her ears, sat back, and closed her eyes. Ah, to be back in school.

* * *

Spencer glanced up at the clock for the hundredth time. Her last class before lunch was minutes away from being over, and she was impatient to get out. She was glad to be back in school, but her mind wasn't quite focusing on that yet. It didn't help that Ashley had been texting her during the past four hours with her brand new cell phone. And, like the good student she was, Spencer did an exceptional job of _looking_ like she was paying attention while she was _actually_ texting her girlfriend back.

Finally, the bell rang, and Mr. Hultquist dismissed his students. Gathering her things, the blonde practically ran out the door, made a brief stop at her locker, and headed straight for the quad. A quick scan of the area revealed no Ashley. Disappointed at the brunette's slowness (or perhaps her own speed), Spencer made for their customary table. Before she could get there, she was stopped by a familiar voice behind her.

"Hey, Spencer."

She had never had to suppress so many negative urges at one time before: cringe, groan, eye roll, spit, curse, flee, gag. The list went on. Settling for a steadying breath, the blonde forced a smile and turned to face him. She mentally added 'violent haircutting' to the list. I mean, does he put _effort_ into making his hair look that bad?

"Hey, Aiden."

"How are you?"

"Alive," she answered simply.

He adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, understanding written on his face. "I know the feeling."

"I'm happy to be back."

"It's good to have you back. You guys just took off without word, and when we heard that your plane crashed…" Spencer merely nodded. "How did you end up in Canada, anyway?"

"Little Miss Inheritance decided we needed to take a vacation to work through some things. She wanted to go to Mexico, but I brilliantly suggested Canada, and our holiday weekend turned into a month-long reenactment of _Hatchet_." The blonde noticed Aiden had become strangely quiet and braced herself for what she knew was coming. "What?"

"Did you?"

"Did we what?"

"Work through things?"

Spencer's pretense of civility began slipping away. "I thought she made that very clear to you."

"Yeah, but you know Ash. You know how dramatic she can be."

"Yes, I _do_ know Ashley. Like how I know she explicitly said you two couldn't be friends anymore. What makes you think it's going to be any different with me?"

The boy looked torn, but evidently not torn enough. "I don't want to lose you as a friend, Spencer, but I _can't_ lose _her_."

"I don't think that's for you to decide."

"I'm in love with her."

"I can't listen to this—"

"No, hear me out," Aiden entreated, gently grasping her arm before she could turn away. "I get it: you love her, too. But, Spencer, I feel like Ashley is the _only_ reason I'm alive—"

A sharp slap echoed through the quad, drawing the attention of a good number of students in the area. Aiden, recovering his balance from the force of Spencer's hand, was met with blue eyes blazing in anger. Neither teen was aware that a particular brunette had entered the quad looking for the blonde and had stopped some distance away to watch the scene.

"_Don't_. You selfish asshole, don't you _dare_ stand there and say that to me." The boy's lip quivered as moisture filled his eyes, but he gave no response. "I can say the exact same thing, so what is it you're looking for? Forgiveness? Sympathy? Or are you looking for pain to make you feel 'alive?'" A second slap cut through the eerie hush of the courtyard. "Did that _hurt_ enough for you?"

A few tears fell with the repeated strike. "Spencer, I'm sorr—"

"Don't feed me your bullshit apologies, Aiden. The very fact that you're still doing this, even after you promised me you'd stay away, even after Ashley very clearly told you it was over, tells me you don't mean it. _Never_ come to me again and act like I'm supposed to step aside. Now get out of my sight. Just looking at you makes me sick."

Not waiting for him to move, Spencer whirled around and stalked over to the table. She threw her stuff down and dropped heavily onto the bench, her back to the table edge. Her eyes remained glued to the ground. It wasn't long before she felt someone come up to stand behind her, resting one knee on the bench. She didn't have to look to know who it was. The person's gentle fingers tentatively played with a few strands of Spencer's hair.

"Are you okay?" the sweet gravelly voice murmured.

"My hand hurts."

Her flat reply was answered by an affectionate lilting chuckle. "Aw."

The hand in Spencer's hair landed lightly on her shoulder and slid down her arm to softly grasp her hand. Ashley brought the younger girl's palm to her lips for a tender kiss, then gently massaged the hand between her own fingers.

"Better?"

"Much."

Ashley shifted so that she sat on the bench next to her girlfriend, close enough for their thighs to press against each other. She touched her free hand to the other girl's knee while her other hand laced fingers with Spencer's. "I'm sorry."

"Had to happen sometime."

"But he shouldn't have come to you like that. It just makes me even more angry with him."

"I just wish he'd get the message already."

Ashley nodded thoughtfully. "...I can always sic Kyla on him…"

"I heard that," the younger sister said as she and Chelsea arrived at the table, sitting down with their lunches.

"What did we miss?" the darker-skinned girl asked.

Spencer looked at Chelsea in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The halls are practically buzzing about how you put the smack down on Aiden," Kyla informed them. "About time someone did. I was ready to do it myself."

"The gossip is rivaled only by Ashley's ballad to Madison," Chelsea followed. "Quite the performance, I hear. Sorry I missed it."

"Well, if we can get her over here, I'm sure I could hammer out an encore for you…"

The artist chuckled. "That girl's not coming anywhere near you for at least another week after that."

"Nah, I give her a day. Tops," Ashley predicted. "Then she'll be all over me like pigeon shit on a newly-washed car." That finally got a laugh out of Spencer, causing the brunette to smile softly at her and squeeze her knee. "You know it's true."

"I've never doubted your shared ability to get a rise out of each other." She squinted knowingly. "I think you two secretly enjoy it because it brings you together again."

"Secretly? Pft. It's the highlight of my non-Spencer-oriented day."

The admission earned coos from Chelsea and Kyla and a kiss on the cheek from her lover. The rest of lunch passed with casual conversation between the four friends, and all the while, Ashley's hand never left Spencer's.

* * *

_Author's note: Man, Aiden's pretty thick-headed, isn't he? __I felt this was how things SHOULD have been handled on the show, but we've been denied. __Anyway, he's out of the picture now. Forever. I might make mention of sending him in a non-aerated box to Abu Dhabi or something, but he won't actually be appearing again ;)_

_This was actually one of my favorite chapters to write. Not (only) because of the Aiden!Assault, but because we finally get to see how the girls are strong __separately__. __And let's not forget "Mad-Eye Madison." The lyrics were based off the ending strain of "Music (Was My First Love)," a '70s rock ballad by John Miles. Admittedly, I was more than a little amused by the idea of Ashley singing it. I strongly recommend you listen to the original song (the last minute or so), because it makes it that much funnier._

_And yes, I ripped one of Kyla's lines from the promos and gave it to Spencer. It's so much more satisfying that way._

_Two more chapters!_


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine

_Alrighty, so this is the second to last chapter, and I'm using it to wrap up some family stuff. The finale, though, will be pure Spashley.__  
_

_Spencer swears a lot during a particular section here. Blame Glen. It's a sibling thing._

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-nine**

Saturday morning. Finally.

The school days had been invaded by reporters and journalists who practically cornered Spencer and Ashley for interviews. The school nights had been filled with heavy make-up work sessions (interrupted by heavy make-_out_ sessions). Sleep had been restless, each missing the other's presence. The girls were exhausted, and both were looking forward to a quiet weekend.

A prospect that was partially thwarted when a local talk show requested an early morning appearance. Early as in a seven o'clock airing. Seven o'clock as in getting to the station by quarter after five.

It was nearing ten by the time Ashley dragged herself back into her house, having dropped Spencer off at the Carlin residence. Her tired mind was debating between coffee and sleep as she made her way through the foyer. Passing the living room, she spotted Kyla in full yoga mode.

"How was the talk show?" the younger brunette asked, looking up from a pose.

"Did you watch it?"

"Maybe. I kinda zoned out when she kept asking you two about your relationship."

Ashley groaned. "God, that bitch was brutal." She donned a bad valley girl accent. "'So, Miss Davies, tell us. Did your father's untimely passing influence your sexual relations with other girls? Miss Carlin, was it the threat of death that drove you into another girl's arms?' What the fuck? Seriously?"

Kyla laughed. "I liked your answers. Especially since they had to bleep you out."

"Who knew you couldn't say 'threat of penis' on a morning talk show? Anyway, I'm going back to Spencer's later today."

"I don't know how that girl puts up with you…" Kyla mumbled good-humoredly.

"She has good incentive," Ashley explained with a crooked grin. "Now, putting up with _you_ is a whole different story."

"Hey, who makes you coffee in the morning?"

"The help, after I nearly choke on the vat of acid that you piss out."

The younger sister pouted and stuck out her tongue, a gesture that Ashley readily mirrored. At that moment, Christine walked into the room, looking quite tan from her Caribbean excursions.

"Kyla, darling, how was—Oh. Ashley. I didn't realize you were here."

Ashley glanced at her surroundings. "Um, I live here?"

"Yes, but I assumed you'd be out with one of your…friends."

"Actually, I just got back from an interview Spencer and I had. You know, about Canada?"

"I hope you remembered to smile, dear."

Ashley sighed. "…yeah, always...how was the Caribbean?" she asked flatly.

"Could have been better for what I paid for it. But I met the most wonderful crewman…"

Ashley quickly tuned her mother out, having heard the same story time and time again over the years since Raife left. Rolling her eyes at Kyla, she walked out of the room during Christine's droning, entering the kitchen and finding a fresh pot of caffeine waiting for her. For all the insults slung back and forth, Kyla actually made really good coffee.

* * *

Hours later, Ashley stood on the Carlin's front step. It felt strange for her to ring the doorbell after so long. Yes, she had been over in the past few days, but that was following Spencer in after school. Now, she was waiting for the door to open. A door that she had been snuck past, thrown out of, invited through, and nearly face-slammed by, all for the young blonde living on the other side.

It wasn't long before she was greeted by Arthur's smiling face. "Oh, hello, Ashley. Come on in." The man stepped back and opened the door wider for the brunette to walk through. "Spencer's up in her room. Go on up."

"Thanks, Mister C."

Climbing the stairs, Ashley could hear the familiar sounds of a sibling argument drifting out of her girlfriend's room. With an amused smirk, she made her way down the hallway and leaned against the doorframe to listen.

"Glen, you dumbass!"

"Hey!"

"I _told_ you to not download porn onto my computer!"

"I didn't!"

"Oh, so, the ladies of 'Beverley Hills 9021-Ho' just _mysteriously_ dropped into a folder on my desktop while you were playing _Warcraft_?"

"Um…yes?"

"Whore out your own computer!"

"Mine crashed!"

"Not my problem!"

"Well, it is now!"

"Get those nasty skanks _off_ my computer!"

"Do it yourself."

"Ew, no!"

"Spencer, you're _gay_. I thought you _liked_ girls."

"That doesn't mean I want to see naked chicks of ungodly proportions giggling all over my screen!"

The boy seemed bewildered. "…why not?"

"_Gleeeen!_"

"_Whaaaaat?_"

"Quit being a stupid ass!"

"Quit being a whiny bitch!"

"Jerk!"

"Brat!"

"Pervert!"

"Lesbian!"

"Butt munch!"

Glen finally noticed the brunette smirking in the doorway. "Ashley."

Another insult on the tip of her tongue, Spencer paused and squinted at him in confusion. "…what?" Following her brother's gaze, she was met by brown eyes dancing with mirth. Her face lit up. "Hey!"

Ashley sauntered into the room. "Good to see you two are really embracing that whole brother-sister bonding thing."

The brunette kissed Spencer on the cheek, and Glen used the distraction to try sneaking out.

"Glen, you dipshit, get your ass back in here!"

"Hell no! I don't want to see my sister getting her mack on!"

"Get rid of your hos!"

"Worry about your own!" With that, Glen ran down the hall to his room and shut the door.

"I'm not the one who dates hos!" Spencer all but screamed as she closed her own door. She dropped down into her desk chair in front of her laptop. "Ugh, that ass."

"Sounds like everything's back to normal, then," Ashley guessed.

"With him and Dad, yeah. Mom still doesn't want to let me out of her sight, though. She's actually been home at night instead of at the hospital. It's weird."

The brunette moved to stand behind the blonde, fingers automatically reaching out to play with strands of golden hair. "That's good, though, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Spencer answered distractedly as she searched her computer for Glen's unsavory files. "It's certainly nice to know that she hasn't chained me in my closet yet." A picture of a overly-busty naked girl in a very unnatural-looking pose popped up. Both girls winced, and the blonde quickly clicked out of it. "Ew, and guys are turned on by this?"

"Guys are turned on by linoleum," the older girl reminded, deciding to sit down on the bed.

"Good point." The files deleted, Spencer turned her chair around to face her. "How's your mom?"

The brunette snorted. "I don't think she even noticed I was gone."

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever." Ashley laid down, legs dangling off the bed as she stared at the ceiling. The mattress dipped as Spencer knelt next to her. "I don't know why I keep expecting her to change."

The blonde laced her fingers through Ashley's, but before she could respond, there was a knock on the door. "Yeah?"

The door opened, and Paula took a step into the bedroom. "Everything okay with you and Glen, Spence?"

The younger blonde waved it off. "Oh yeah. He was just being his usual annoying self. It's kinda nice, actually."

Paula gave a tiny smile of understanding. She turned her attention to the brunette, looking a little uncomfortable. "Um…Ashley. Are you…staying for dinner? We'd love to have you..."

Caught off guard, the girl sputtered as she sat up. "Uh, sure, I'd love to."

"Good. Dinner will be ready in a half hour." The older woman starting backing out of the room, then hesitated. "…and you're welcome to spend the night, if you'd like."

"If that's…" Ashley spared a sideways glance at Spencer, "all right with you and Spence…"

Paula nodded once. When the woman had closed the door, Ashley and Spencer traded looks of odd smiles and raised brows. Both were thinking the same thing.

"Who the hell was that?"

* * *

Dinner wasn't as bad as the girls were expecting. After the customary saying of Grace (for which Ashley wisely remained silent), Glen launched into a story about his recent mishap at the sporting goods store, involving an attractive softball player and a display of bats. A bit of friendly snark from Ashley prompted the boy to tease her about her little musical performance in the quad, retellings of which had even reached him at the store.

With the laughter filling the dinner table, Spencer couldn't help but feel like the family was complete again. She was so busy smiling at the thought that she didn't hear her father asking her a question. It wasn't until Ashley's nudge and Glen's 'Earth to Spencer' that she snapped out of her daze.

"Sorry, what?"

Arthur smiled. "I was asking if you and Ashley had any more interviews scheduled this weekend."

"Oh. Hopefully no. I'm so tired of being asked the same crap over and over again, and it's never even about the survival part. I mean, you know how these people are. They latch on to whatever they think will sell the biggest story."

"So, of course, they all keep coming back to the question of 'us,'" Ashley piped in, complete with air quotes and an eye roll. "Never mind the fact that we almost _died_. They're more focused on turning this whole thing into a cheesy romance novel. She really grilled us about it this morning."

"And I never know how to answer that kind of stuff," Spencer followed. "Luckily for me, Ash has a quick tongue."

Four pairs of eyes swiveled to stare at her—Arthur in barely concealed amusement, Paula in barely concealed horror, Ashley and Glen in a mixture of both. Even before she caught their looks, the blonde flushed bright red as she turned the words over in her head. "Oh, for different phrasing…" she muttered, covering her face with her hand.

Ashley stabbed a carrot with her fork and shoved it into her mouth, trying extremely hard—and extremely unsuccessfully—to fight off a smirk. When she swallowed the food, she cleared her throat.

"Yeah, well, if there's one thing I learned from being a rock star's daughter, it's that quick _wit_," she emphasized, glancing pointedly at Spencer, "is the best way to satisfy the paparazzi."

Despite Ashley's efforts, an awkward silence settled over the table. Unconsciously mimicking the brunette by clearing her throat, Paula stood up from her chair.

"Who would like dessert?"

As the woman began clearing the family's dishes from the table, Ashley also stood up. "Here, Missus C., let me help you with those."

Paula smiled genuinely. "Thank you, Ashley."

"Gutter brain," the brunette whispered in Spencer's ear as she picked up the blonde's plate.

Spencer glared. "Brownnoser."

With dinner over, Arthur suggested family game night, leading to a rather competitive game of Pictionary, guys versus girls. Not surprisingly, the girls won. Victory dances prompted mockery, leading to Spencer chasing Glen upstairs. Arthur followed the siblings up to make sure they didn't get into an actual argument, leaving Ashley and Paula to put the game away.

The brunette was the first to speak. "Um…if you tell me where the extra bedding is, I can just grab it later so you don't have to."

The woman looked up from her task, conflict evident in her eyes. "…you don't have to sleep on the couch."

"Oh…in the garage then?" Ashley joked with a nervous smile.

"You can…stay in Spencer's room."

The girl's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Really?"

Paula seemed to take a steadying breath. "…yes."

Ashley watched as the mother finished cleaning up the living room, a question burning in her mind. "…Paula? Why are you being so nice to me?"

"I love my daughter, Ashley. I'll admit that when Arthur told me she was flying out of the country with you, I was…less than thrilled. And of course, what happened after…well, it was a mother's worst nightmare. After losing Clay, it would've been more than I could bear to lose her, too." The blonde paused to gather her thoughts. "Spencer told me about everything you did for her. And…anyone who shows that level of selflessness and devotion…couldn't be all that bad for my daughter. It's not going to be easy, but I'll try not to let the Catholic in me interfere anymore."

Ashley let the words sink in. Then, on impulse, she hugged Paula fiercely. "Thank you. You know this is going to mean the world to Spencer. And me."

The woman briefly returned the embrace. "She's my little girl. I've only ever wanted her to be happy and safe…even if she and I have had differing opinions as to what that is. But…maybe it's time I change my mind." She released a breath. "Now go on. I'm sure Spencer's waiting, if she's not too busy killing Glen."

"Goodnight, Missus C."

"Goodnight, Ashley."

Passing Arthur on the stairs with another 'goodnight,' she walked into Spencer's room. She found the blonde—her sling off—changing into her sleep attire in her walk-in closet.

Coming up behind her, the brunette kissed her on the shoulder. "Are we in the Twilight Zone?"

"Why?"

"Your mom just told me I could sleep in here tonight."

Spencer's eyes widened in shock. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, she's making up a bed for you on the couch," Ashley deadpanned.

"You bitch."

The brunette gave a nose-crinkling grin. "My god, Spence, I don't think I've heard you swear this much in the entire time I've known you."

"Glen is a master at pissing me off."

Slipping into the tank top and boxers the blonde offered her (and pouting at the lack of nakedness), Ashley sat next to Spencer on the edge of her bed. "So…what were you thinking about earlier at dinner?"

The younger girl smiled bashfully. "It just feels like…everything is coming back together, you know?"

"It's a nice feeling, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"You know what else is a nice feeling?"

"What?"

With a gentle grasp of the blonde's chin, Ashley brought their lips together. Soft but demanding. Fingers slid into hair as a warm tongue sought out its partner. When Spencer felt the brunette start to move them back, she moaned into Ashley's mouth.

"Ash…" The brunette dropped down to nip at Spencer's neck, a quiet grunt her only response. "My mom is letting you sleep in my room for the first time. I don't think we should jinx it by having sex."

"But I miss you."

"I'm right here."

"Not close enough. Too many clothes."

Spencer grinned when a wandering hand slipped under her shirt. "Ashley."

With a frustrated sigh, the older girl relented. "Yeah, I know. You're right." Crawling under the covers, Ashley settled down, curling up along Spencer's side. "So, do you think Paula would let you out of the house again tomorrow?"

"Maybe. Why?"

"I was hoping we could…hang out or something."

"And do what?"

"It's a surprise."

Spencer's eyes narrowed. "It's not a trip to Cabo, is it?"

"No, god. Have a little more faith in me than _that_."

"Okay, sorry…" Beat. "Hawaii?"

"No."

"Jamaica?"

"_No_."

"Maui?"

"No! Jesus, Spencer."

"Hehe."

Ashley squeezed the blonde's hip. "Is someone wanting a romantic getaway already?"

"No. Just making sure."

"Uh huh."

"Go to sleep, Ashley."

Ashley shifted, her hand slipping off of the girl's hip. "Yes, dear."

"Um…Ash?"

"What?"

"Unfair placement of the hand."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're kinda south of my waist, there."

"Oh, really?"

"Just a bit."

"Huh. Weird." Ashley deliberately dragged the heel of her palm up, letting her fingers trail heavily behind. Relishing in Spencer's hiss of pleasure, she moved her hand up to the blonde's shoulder. A soft kiss and a flick of the tongue was placed just below the younger girl's ear. Abruptly, she burrowed down into the girl's neck with a quick chaste hug. "'night Spence."

There was a moment of silence before Spencer let out the breath she had been holding in a loud puff of air. "Tease."

Ashley only smirked.


	41. Chapter Forty: Finale

_Wow. And now we come to the end. I have to say, it's been quite a ride. To finish a story like this—and to have such a devoted group of readers—is truly satisfying. I, too, am sad to see it end, but this just means that I can focus on new projects. So, a heartfelt **thank you** to each and every one of my readers, and I hope to see you on future stories. There will not be a sequel to Lifeline, but I have another Spashley project in the works._

_There's a tiny bit of kink coming up but nothing too graphic. _

* * *

**Chapter Forty: Finale**

"So, are you going to tell me what this is about?"

"Nope."

"Please?"

"Nuh uh."

"Pretty please?"

"Oh, I have you begging already? Wow, that's gotta be a new record."

"Ash."

"What?"

"Don't play innocent. It looks better on me."

"Would you prefer sexy naughty?" Ashley offered in the most velvety tone she could muster.

"I'd prefer truthful candor."

"That's boring."

"You think I'm boring?"

"No. I think your lack of adventure is boring."

"I've had quite enough adventure to last a lifetime, thank you."

"See? Boring."

"You're not making me want to follow you." Spencer threw up her hands when the brunette pouted. "Ugh, _fine_."

Ashley grinned goofily and bounced a little. "Yay."

Rolling her eyes at the childlike behavior, the blonde watched warily as her lover pulled a long strip of silk cloth out of her pocket. "A blindfold? Really, Ash?"

"Yeah. Kinky, isn't it?" Ashley moved around behind Spencer and covered the blonde's eyes with her hands, the cloth dangling from between her fingers. "Do you trust me?" she murmured into her lover's ear.

"Yes."

With a smile, Ashley dropped soft kisses on Spencer's ear, down her neck, and onto her shoulder. Carefully, she stretched the blindfold across the taller girl's eyes, making sure to not get blonde hair caught as she tied a loose knot. Sliding around in front of Spencer again, Ashley kissed up her lover's jaw to the corner of her mouth, repeating the gesture on the other side of the girl's face. She ghosted over Spencer's lips, smiling as the girl reflexively tried for more contact. Instead, the brunette pressed a kiss to the blonde's forehead.

"No peeking."

Guiding Spencer to sit in the Porsche, Ashley hopped into the driver's seat and started up the engine. With the warm sun shining down and the air rushing over them, they rode in silence, anticipating (or wondering) what was to come of the day. Ashley's hand remained perched on Spencer's knee to make sure the girl didn't feel so isolated under her blindfold.

When she finally parked the car, the brunette unbuckled both of their seatbelts. "Do you remember the first time that you realized you were gay?" she asked softly.

The blonde smiled at the memory. "At the beach. How could I forget that?"

Gently, Ashley removed the blindfold, and Spencer blinked against the brightness of the sun. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she was greeted by the sight of the ocean. The first thing she noticed was that a good expanse of the beach, including the familiar pier, was deserted.

"Did you _rent out_ the beach?"

"Part of it. I would've rented out the entire California coastline for you, but I figured that wouldn't be fair to everyone else," the girl explained cheekily.

Spencer attempted to hide her awe. "I don't have my swim suit."

"Who said you'd need it?" Ashley posed seductively with a waggle of her eyebrows. She quickly jumped out of the car to the sound of the blonde's laughter.

Spencer took her time climbing out of the Porsche, still marveling at the emptiness of the beach for a half mile to either side of the pier. The ocean surged up onto the sand in gentle waves. The sky was clear and blue. Seagulls drifted overhead, riding the thermals over the coast. It reminded Spencer so very much of that day the previous year.

A beach ball hit her in the head.

That was new.

"Come on, slowpoke!" Ashley called, smirking from a short distance away. "Hurry up!"

With that, the brunette took off running through the sand, knowing the blonde would soon be chasing after her, beach ball in hand. Of course, even with her sling on, Spencer still had good aim, and Ashley was quickly nailed in the back with the inflated projectile. The game continued until Ashley had to wade out into the shallows to retrieve the ball, soaking the hem of her shorts. The two retreated to their spot under the pier, and Spencer gaped at what awaited them.

A large blanket was spread out over the sand, and a cooler filled with a picnic lunch sat nearby. A cordless stereo was perched on the cement footing of one of the pillars. Soft music drifted out from its speakers.

"You're just a hopeless romantic at heart, aren't you?"

"Do we have to go over this again? Sexy and suave and all those other things that start with 's.'"

"Oh, so you're a sap, then."

"No! I'm not!"

"Yeah, pookie, you kinda are."

"Fine. I was going to give you a lap dance, but I'm pretty sure _saps_ don't do that."

"Are you going to do a sap dance instead?"

"I hate you."

Huffing with her arms crossed, Ashley's bottom lip stuck out just a little more when Spencer merely laughed. Catching her by surprise, the blonde leaned closer and nipped that protruding lip with her teeth, leaving wide grins on both of their faces.

"Feisty, aren't you?"

"Hard to resist when you're that adorable."

Brown eyes bulged. "I AM NOT—" A firm kiss muffled Ashley's protest, and a sweep of the tongue silenced her completely.

"So what's in your cooler?" Spencer asked when pulling away from the dazed brunette.

"That sounded dirty."

Apparently not _too_ dazed, though.

"Everything sounds dirty to you, Ash."

"I can't help how my mind works. Especially after you kiss me like _that_." Kneeling in front of the cooler, Ashley flipped the lid open and started pulling its contents out. She donned a bad French accent. "For you today, I have selected a most delectable French white wine. From la France."

"French wine from France," Spencer echoed, trying to look genuinely interested. "How unusual."

Ashley didn't break from her accent, though a smirk was showing through. "It is, no? On the side, we have French bread with butter. For dessert, we have fresh strawberries—"

"From France?" the blonde teased.

Ashley glared mid-sentence. "—with a light garnish of chocolate sauce. And for the main dish, I have prepared a chicken Caesar pasta salad."

"You made pasta salad?"

The brunette nodded. "Oui."

"That's not French." Spencer narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "…is it from a box?"

"Hey!" Ashley swatted at her playfully, her accent gone. "I may be rich and spoiled, but I can still cook."

"Whatever you say…Ashlé."

"You think you're funny, Spencér?"

"Not as funny as your horrible accent."

The brunette whined unintelligibly. "Bitch."

"Dork."

Ashley seemed even more offended by the simple insult. "I go through all this trouble to set up the perfect date for us, and all you do is make fun of me? Fine, you know what?" She pulled out one plate, one glass, and one set of utensils. "You're not getting any."

Spencer wasn't phased. "Is there a double meaning there, Miss Davies?"

"_Possibly_."

The blonde shrugged, unconcerned. "We'll see how long that lasts."

Ashley grumbled under her breath as she piled food onto the plate, throwing glares in Spencer's direction every now and then. The smile underlying the brunette's scowl became a full blown, nose-crinkling grin when the blonde leaned over and kissed her cheek. Ashley handed Spencer the plate of food, and a glass of wine soon followed.

Their meal was filled with the usual laughter and antics (instigated when Ashley started throwing croutons). The stereo continued to serenade them with soft tunes in the background, and when they had had their fill of pasta salad, the brunette pulled Spencer to her feet for a dance. At first, they were mostly just goofing around with silly smiles and playful twirls. Eventually, though, they settled into a gentle sway.

With her good arm slung around her lover's neck, Spencer gazed into brown eyes. "Ash, are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"

"I have to _try_?" Ashley's indignant response was met with a teasing smirk and a head tilt. An indomitable combination by any means, and the brunette's fake glare melted into a half smile. "You're _mean_ today."

"But it's fun. You're so easy."

"_I'm_ easy?" Without warning, Ashley's hand dove under the blonde's skirt, and her fingers dragged deliciously upwards. The blonde's gasp was not quite drowned out by the cry of a seagull overhead. "Say, Spence, did you go in the water when I wasn't looking?"

"No, why?" With an upturned brow, the brunette pointedly sucked on the tip of her finger. Blushing fiercely, Spencer ducked her head down to a tan cheek. "I can't help what you do to me, Ash," she whispered against her lover's ear.

Any intentions of further teasing vanished from the older girl's mind with that simple raw admission. Ashley turned her head and captured Spencer's lips, already consumed by the dizzying haze of want. They were driven by mutual need after school, homework, family, and interviews had kept them apart for a small eternity (eight and a half days, but who's counting?). Clothes were shed, Spencer's sling was flung aside, and the blonde pulled Ashley down on top of her, their lips meeting hungrily.

Though enjoying the demanding kiss, the brunette had other plans. She sat up so that she straddled Spencer's hips, smirking when the blonde whined in protest. Reaching over to the cooler, she pulled two containers over. One held the strawberries. The other held the chocolate.

Darkened blue eyes watched in silent curiosity as Ashley selected a strawberry and dipped it into the sauce. When the chocolate covered fruit touched her lips, Spencer's tongue snaked out to taste its sweetness before sinking her teeth into the very tip. Her eyes never left Ashley's, and those brown orbs turned almost black as the brunette watched her lover's mouth, entranced.

Shaking herself, Ashley seemed to remember what her original intent was. Using the half-eaten strawberry, she traced a line down Spencer's chin, along her neck, and between her breasts, chocolate smearing in its wake. She grinned wickedly at the younger girl's raised brow. She bent down and licked the chocolate trail up from Spencer's chest to her jaw, her tongue completing its journey by slipping into the blonde's open mouth.

Sitting back up, Ashley devoured the remainder of the strawberry, making sure to give an exaggerated moan as she sucked her fingers clean. Taking a sip of wine from her glass, the brunette shifted her hips a bit, winning a not so fake moan from the girl beneath her.

"You're such a tease, Davies."

"You love it."

Their lips sealed together, tongues meeting and mingling the sweet tastes of strawberries, chocolate, and wine. Drawing back with a smirk, Ashley picked another piece of the red fruit, but by the time she met the blonde's gaze again, she became aware of the chocolate painted across her left breast.

"Oops." Spencer maintained her sweetly innocent expression as she slowly sucked the sauce from her fingers. "Want me to get that for you?"

"Please do."

The blonde sat up, her lips latching onto the supple chocolate-covered flesh, her tongue lapping at the stiff bud. Strong fingers entangled in her hair, and Ashley arched into Spencer's mouth with a whimper.

With the ocean their only witness, the murmurs of their quiet lovemaking were swallowed by the sounds of its perpetual waves.

* * *

After packing up from their beach excursion, they drove to the Davies mansion, where both Kyla and Christine were conveniently missing. After a quick shower (and by quick, I mean over an hour of quickies) to clean off the sand and sweat (and chocolate), the girls changed into clean clothes.

The brunette watched with a strange little smile on her face as Spencer ran her fingers through her damp blonde hair. It didn't go unnoticed.

"What?"

The older girl shifted her weight from foot to foot. "I have something for you. I have to go get it, though, so I'll be right back." Ashley darted out of the room, soon returning with both hands hidden behind her back. "Pick a hand."

Evidently, the choice required a great deal of thought, and there was a long pause before Spencer decided. "Left."

With a toothy grin, the brunette held out a single, long-stemmed, red rose. The younger girl's lips curved up as she accepted the flower, breathing in the sweet scent of its bloom.

"What's in your other hand?"

Ashley bit her bottom lip with a sudden nervousness as she brought her right hand out into the open, a small black velvet box in her grasp. Spencer's expression was unreadable as she took the proffered jewelry case, only the slightest crease in her brow hinting at a whisper of apprehension. With a glance to her girlfriend, the blonde lifted the box lid.

Nestled in the black foam insert was a platinum ring, a sparkling princess-cut sapphire set between the curved ends of the band.

"It's engraved," Ashley told her quietly.

As Spencer inspected the words etched into the smooth metal on the inside of the band, the brunette anxiously searched the blonde's face for her reaction, lip still caught mercilessly between her teeth.

'_My lifeline. My love.'_

"Ash…" the blonde breathed out, studying the silver band. "What is this?"

"Well, here in America, we call it a ring," the brunette explained wryly. "Typically, you wear it on your finger."

"Smart ass," Spencer shot back good-naturedly. She turned serious again. "What kind of ring?"

Ashley dropped her gaze to the floor, continuing to chew on her bottom lip. Timidly, she looked back up into Spencer's eyes. "A promise ring. I decided the bracelet didn't do you justice, and it kinda got ruined by the whole prom thing anyway, so I wanted to get you something different."

"…it's beautiful…" the blonde murmured.

The words gave no comfort. "You don't sound happy."

Spencer's shoulders seemed to droop as she stared at the ring. "We've only been back a week…Things still aren't perfect yet, Ash."

"Is any relationship ever really perfect?"

Unexpectedly, the girl laughed. "No, I guess not."

"I think we can get pretty damn close, though. Spencer…" Taking the ring box back into her own possession, Ashley grasped the blonde's hand and led her to sit on the edge of her bed. "…I look into the future, and you know what I see?"

"What?"

A faint grin alighted on her features. "I see myself as a successful rock star with tons of hot girls and guys, one after the other…" She paused for effect. "…all completely jealous of _you_ because you're the only one I'll ever want. I don't want this to end up as a high school fling, some temporary sideshow to extreme circumstance. I _want_ a future with you, Spence. Nothing can change that." Ashley brought the blonde's hand up to her lips for a kiss. "My question to you is, what do you see in _your_ future?"

"Well…I see myself in a career that I love…occasionally going to see Ashley Davies in concert and then going home with one of the band members for a hot steamy night of passion," Spencer finished with the utmost seriousness.

The older girl didn't falter. "Well, in that case, you might want to stay away from the drummer," she deadpanned. "They tend to be bad news."

"Who would you suggest, then?"

"I'd recommend the lead singer. They're usually the hottest one."

"Ah. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

At the same time, their poker faces dissolved into smiles, and Ashley shook her head with a low chuckle. "You know, one of the few times I was being completely serious…"

"I know, and it was creeping me out." Spencer squeezed her lover's hand. "Yes, I want a future with you. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Really?"

"Really. I love you."

Instead of replying, Ashley plucked the ring out from its foam captor, gently sliding it onto her lover's left ring finger. When the band was in place, she leaned her forehead against Spencer's. "Perfect fit."

It was hard to tell if Ashley was referring to the ring or the two of them together. Perhaps both. The blonde gazed down at her newly adorned finger, smiling giddily until a thought occurred to her.

"Hey, how did you know my ring size?"

"Trade secret."

"What, do you have a ring sizer in your cooler?"

"_Spencer Carlin_, you dirty girl. I'm going to tell your mother."

"You're going to tell my mother that you put a ring on my finger?" the blonde challenged with a raised brow.

A look of horror overcame Ashley's smug expression. "…never mind."

"Thought so. Besides, I can think of a better use of your time."

"And what would that be?"

Spencer took the ring box out of Ashley's hand, setting both it and the rose aside. Quickly straddling her waist, the blonde pushed the older girl onto her back, pinning her arms over her head with a smirk. The brunette hummed in approval.

"Do we still have any of that chocolate left?"

Shifting under the blonde to strategically place her thigh, Ashley tried to remember. "I think we used it all…but we have some honey in the kitchen." Neither had any intention of going down to get it. "Spence?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."

Trading grins, they fused their lips together, beginning once again the intricate dance they knew so well. They became one knowing their futures were forever entwined, each girl safe in the arms of her lifeline.

_Fin._


End file.
